Trumped into Bed
by gallantcorkscrews
Summary: On Hiatus. AH OOC. E/B engage in a battle of revenge that results in the demolition of their highschool reputations. Once they tire each other out with their antics, will they JUST DO IT?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer's characters.**

**EPOV**

"Heaaaaddddddwarrrrrrrrrd," she sputtered over my dick.

"Sssh… I'm almost there."

My hands squeezed her shoulders and pushed down. Jessica's new tongue ring helped her fellatio skills. The metal ball was flicking across the head. Shivers went down my spine.

Jessica shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. She was bent over the center console of my car, and a gas station Slurpee cup was digging into her stomach.

_Oh fuck this feels like sunshine._

The science build was twenty feet from my windshield. Thank god for this misty mountain shit weather.

My dick bumped against the back of her throat. Then her hand started slapping against my knee one, two, too many times.

"Tut, tut, tut," I chastised, wrapping my fingers in her hair. My head dropped to the side.

Then something like on the ball of her tongue ring snagged on the dick skin.

"What the _fuck_," I yelled, leaping up and bashing my head against the roof of my car.

My dick caught in her mouth. Like a paper jam from hell.

She shook her chin -looking like a dog tossing their head while playing with a sock- then tugged me free and scooted back to her side of the car. A neat cut marred the centerfold of my dick.

"What's wrong?" she asked, wiping her chin of spit.

I recoiled into the far corner of the car seat. I must have looked like a bitch- but. Well, fuck it. "There's like a jagged edge on the ball of your tonge ring or something."

She leaned in close to me, bringing her coffee and dick breath and her freckles too close to me. She had weird, double dimples. Her hand curled around my elbow and she shook my arm.

"Mah tonnnggggue iz swollen," she said.

I was holding my dick in my hands, studying the red line torn down the middle. Jessica shook my elbow again.

I know I needed to pay attention to the human being next to me, but I really felt like I was being disloyal to my dick. I glanced at Jessica. Her tongue had swollen to a size that filled her entire mouth, but I was studying the tongue ring. In the middle of the metal ball was a pink plastic filling that read "Eat Me" in purple bubble script. The filling was surrounded by raised serrated edges. Fucking _Ow._

"When did you get your tongue pierced?"

"Yessserday."

"You know, it could get infected." _My dick could get infected. _"Try to be a little careful."

"Oh, sorry-"

"Dude, don't apologize. It's just not a good idea you know?"

She started gathering her hair back into a ponytail. Then she messed around with the radio controls. I snorted... and her hands stilled. She looked at me with wide eyes.

"Wheech preset do you want?" she asked quickly.

My eyes narrowed a little at her. Her face blanched at my expression.

"There's only one," I said, drumming my knuckles against the glass.

Next to the car, a robin was making a nest in the cedar with someone's calculus test.

She fumbled with the controls, hitting two others. before she hit the "1" button and the classical station filled the car. None of them were programmed accept the "1" button.

Debussy. Thank god, only he can rescue me from a bad blowjob that will probably give my dick gangrene.

"You 'ike classicall? Woooow, thhat's so cool."

"Yep."

"Well, I'll seeee you inssiide," she said. She stepped out the car and trotted into the mist.

I rested my head against the headrest, closing my eyes. I grabbed the backpage of the newspaper off the backseat of my car and situated the paper on my knee. Hopefully a Sudoku puzzle would distract me.

I love that women lend me their mouths, so the resentment I feel should be disturbing.

But come on. Warm, wet, up, down. Repeat. Only Jessica could fuck it up.

I turned the engine off and headed inside the school building.

A couple of guys stopped me in hall and asked me for suggestions on the freshmen hazing. A chick bitched me out, rubbing my arm, and gave me her phone number. One of my team mates ran up behind me, jumping on my back, then ran ahead of me, kicking a locker as he went. His doctor probably doubled up his Ritalin.

Sometimes, walking through the halls, I fet strange, followed, pursued. Like when I passed by those paintings where the eyes move with you. Stares tracking no matter where I move.

But I was also a full blown narcissist. Thinking the world revolves around you can make you paranoid.

After a bad blowjob, attention was the last thing I wanted to feel.

I was almost to the cafeteria when I recognized my favorite set of legs approaching me from the left.

I straightened up my collar and stiffened my posture.

Those legs can twist behind her head. Double jointed. Then she had that growth spurt. Which had mostly been in her legs.

"Hey, can we talk? Please?" Bella asked, falling into step next to me.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and slid my fingers down over my nostrils. "I don't want to talk."

She puffed out angrily and bit her lip. She was wearing the lip gloss today. _Thanks Bella. _Seriously, I loved those lips. Those sticky, fat lips.

"Why did you have to mess with Angela? You really upset her."

"Who are you? Are you banging Angela now?"

Her tiny hand grabbed my forearm and yanked me down to her eyelevel.

A wide grin broke out across my face.

"Hey," she said, "It's hard enough being civil to you in front of our families. But I warned you; don't screw with me or my friends at school."

"You have like two friends, what were the chances?"

"At the rate you go, it was bound to happen."

"Tell Angela not to come into kitchen if she can't handle the heat."

"Look Cullen, I told you, if you didn't stop, something's gonna happen to you."

I pressed my palm against her forehead and lightly pushed her out of my way. Then proceeded into the cafeteria.

_Flasback: 11 years old_

_Edward was whistling "Jingle Bell Rock" as he climbed up the cedar into the tree house. Inside the tree house, Bella looked up from her nest of blankets and pillows, where she was reading._

"_What are you reading?" Edward asked, sticking in his head inside._

_Bella shoved the book underneath her pillow, blushing. "Err, nothing."_

"_I'm only more interested now," he responded as he say next to her._

"_It's just a book," Bella said._

_He rolled his eyes and grabbed the book from underneath Bella's pillow. "The dictionary? Huh?"_

"_I… sometimes just read it," she said nervously, a blush spreading down her neck._

"_I don't get it. Do you actually remember the words?" he asked, squinting his eyes to read the tiny font._

_The girl looked surprised by the Edward's questioning. Her look of mortification melted into a wide smile. "Um… well... no, not really. Unless there's a really cool word. I just like words, I guess."_

_He laughed, handing the book back to her. "You're so funny. But that's awesome. It's like how I like numbers and music."_

"_Words are way cooler than numbers. You're sooo gonna be an accountant," she teased, sticking out her tongue._

"_Hey! At least I'm not reading my math book for fun." Bella punched Edward in his arm. "So, did you learn any cool words? I want to look smart."_

"_Hmm. Well, there's chauvinist. It's what my mom used to call my dad before they got back together."_

**BPOV**

"Bella, I know you said something to him," Angela whispered, spearing a piece of pineapple from her fruit cocktail salad and plopping it into her mouth.

"Why do you say that?" I hedged, looking at a glossy poster above her head. It was one of those motivational posters with overreaching metaphors: "Your mind is like a parachute- It works best when open!"

_Subversive message being: Your mind is to be used in emergency cases only._

Angela huffed in annoyance, leaning back in her chair and staring out across the cafeteria. "I don't want you playing guardian."

"Look, he's just… out of line," I said, searching her face, silently pleading with her to not be mad.

She laughed. "The only reason I went to his stupid party was because my little brothers were there. I don't care that they started screwing with me- because my brothers saw it and hopefully they learned something. You are taking this too seriously."

Rose smirked next to me and started to open her mouth.

"Eat something, bitch," I snapped, elbowing Rose's untouched tray into her chest.

That shut her up.

"I shouldn't have dragged your name into it, Angela," I continued.

She waved dismissively. "As if I care. But the question is- why do you care?"

"I used to be his best friend."

Angela pursed her lips. "But you two have been fighting for four years. Why now?"

"Can't I just leave it at 'I'm tired of being on the receiving end of his crap?'"

"NO," Rose and Angela chimed in simultaneously.

"If that were the case, you would have killed him freshmen year. You aren't vengeful," Angela said.

I shrugged. "It's just... I dunno. Someone's going to get into trouble at his parties, real trouble. And Charlie's going to have to arrest him and testify at his trial. I've tried to tell Edward nicely, but he'll only respond to guerilla tactics."

"Alright Che," Rosalie scoffed.

The lunch bell rang, and we stood up to empty our lunch trays. Angela rushed off to her next class, while Rose and I headed towards my locker.

"He'll think this is just some angry bitch ploy to get him to pay attention to you," Rose said.

I wrenched open my locker door.

"Maybe then he'll stop calling me a carpet muncher," I responded.

She snorted.

I was too excited to engage in a downer debate, and it pissed me off that she was questioning my integrity.

Rose blew a tiny spearmint bubble and wedged her tongue into it. Her head bobbed towards me as she tried to stick her gummy her tongue into my hair. I poked her in the eyes with two fingers.

"OWW- oh the principle's marching him over here now," she said, leaning in close to me.

The bell for class just rang, so students were congesting the hall. Everyone slowed to watch Edward trail Mr. Laurent. I couldn't see his expression, since Edward's head was down, but his tense shoulders and stiff arms radiating annoyance.

"Open your locker, Mr. Cullen," Mr. Laurent said, gesturing grandly towards the metal locker with a magician's flourish.

Mr. Cullen snapped his head up, whipping his bronze locks out of his face. He narrowed his lime green eyes at Mr. Laurent. "I didn't steal any damn cell phones. I told you-"

I stifled a giggle.

During my study hall, I often helped out Mrs. Cope in the front office. Last period, I left a fake blog about a fake theft up on the screen of the secretary's computer.

"Edward, just open the locker," Mr. Laurent sighed. "Then we can clear this whole mess up."

He started twirling the lock combination, throwing awkward smirks over his shoulder at random faces in the crowd. I eyed Emmett, Edward's fraternal twin and Fork's quarterback, leaning next to a locker. Emmett was rolling his eyes in Mr. Laurent's direction, pumping his cupped hand in the air in the universal "jack off" signal. To his right was our illustrious cornerback Jasper, and in front of Jasper was the ever present girlfriend Alice. He nibbled her earlobe and eyed the scene before him in a genius display of multi tasking. Jasper was probably screwing her through a hole cut out of Alice's book bag.

Edward's whole Cabinet was assembled.

Then Mr. Cullen, the star wide receiver, opened his locker, and out dropped two boxes of DerbacM.

"Specially formulated pubic lice treatment? Dude, Cullen's got crabs!" Eric Yorkie read, nudging the white box with his shoe.

Edward's lower lip dropped, so I could see the bottom row of his white teeth. His mouth snapped open and closed. But his eyes were oddly muted.

Rose grabbed my forearm and leaned her head against my shoulder, trying to hold herself up while she laughed. She was the first to laugh, since we knew what to expect. By nanoseconds- the whole hallway erupted in laughter.

With the exception of a couple of girls who slipped out towards the bathroom, no doubt to inspect their own pubes.

But those nanoseconds were enough. Edward heard it. He locked eyes with me, a dark smile shadowing the corners of his lips.

The ringing of adolescent laughter deafened my ears.

I had intended on laughing, but I couldn't.

I was the one who saw slapstick comedies and covered their eyes when the lead role was being humiliated.

Why the hell did I think I could stand watching this?

"Obviously there's been a misunderstanding…" Mr. Laurent stammered, picking up the boxes.

"Obviously," Edward said.

Mr. Laurent tried to hand Edward the boxes and Rose howled in laughter again. Edward pushed the boxes into Mr. Laurent's chest, never breaking eye contact with me.

"It was a present for you," Edward told Mr. Laurent, turning heel and striding towards me. His eyes wide, livid.

"EDWARD CULLEN!" Mr. Laurent barked behind him.

"Oh, oh, you caught his attention! Success!" Rose said, stepping aside while Edward walked up to me.

And into me. His washboard stomach ground against me, my breasts a pitiful, painful buffer against his onslaught. I stumbled back a few steps.

"You might want to borrow some Derbac from Mr. Laurent when you're done, Bella!" someone yelled.

I couldn't tear myself away from his glare. The lime green of his eyes were darkening to this hunter green. Like his irises were mood rings.

"You've been staking out my locker?" he said in an achingly low voice. Not a whisper, as it still retained its bass tones, but low enough that my ears tingled as I strained to hear it.

"Wh-What?"_ Way to stand up to Goliath there, David._

"How did you know my locker combination?" he continued.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"EDWARD CULLEN! Get back over here!" Mr. Laurent yelled.

The right side of Edward's lip twitched up in a sneer.

"Until next time," Edward said, turning around.

The air left my lungs, and I leaned against the cement walls, struggling to stay grounded.

And I stayed grounded. Coherent. _Turned on._

Until that moment, I truly thought this ploy was stupid vigilante crap. Did I really do this to get him to notice me?

Rose watched me intently. "Anything you want to confess?"

"Yes. I'm moving to Alaska. I can't believe I did this. I thought I had more integrity than this, I can't believe I wanted-"

I cut myself off. Not going to admit it. By admitting something out loud, you empowered it.

She rolled her eyes. "Good lord. You're human. Welcome to Earth. It's okay to let your inner bitch come out and play every once in awhile."

With that, she grabbed my wrist, pulling me off to my next class.

"But what do I do with my inner bitch once she's out the box?" I joked nervously.

She grinned back at me, "I can't wait to find out."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer's characters.**

**Should have put this in the first chapter-**

**WARNING: Lots of cursing. Lots of gratuitous references to the genitalia. Heavy usage of "dude" and "man" (as in "Hey man, that's not cool dude"). And high school shenanigans meaning yes drugs but I'm ****not**** going to revel in them.**

**Sorry if all that gets a little obnoxious, but we're aiming for gritty Spike Lee realism here people.**

**Etarded: the state of being mentally fried and a complete annoyance to everyone around you after doing too much ecstasy. Kill yourself, basically.**

**BPOV**

Thank god, it was the last period of the day.

Everyone kept talking about the crabs.

Some people were catching on that I had something to do with it after Edward bamboozled me in front of Mr. Laurent.

A few chicks gave me 'Eat shit' looks. This random girl from the Anime club gave me a hug. She kept quoting Revenge of the Nerds.

But that didn't matter. Rght now, Mike was staring at my damn legs again. He didn't even care that I caught him looking. Mike was twisted around in his desk to look at me, even though he was in the front and I was in the back row.

I always sat spread eagle, feet sticking out into the aisles on either side of my desk. People have learned to just step over them. Girls sometimes told me to cross them. A teacher might have commented on the impropriety of my sitting position.

I wore jeans. It's not like I'm in a skirt.

I threw a pen cap at Mike's head and he turned to face at the chalk board.

At times like this, I wished Edward pushed the lesbian rumors about me a little harder. Surely then Mike would back off.

Edward was two desks over from me in the back row. Jasper was in between us. Jasper always sat around me when we had classes together, even though we weren't close friends.

I glanced over at Edward. He was glaring at Mike. Weird.

"So Bella, Alice said you go to yoga?" Jasper asked.

"Um, yeah, how does she know?"

"She visited Gold's Gym to see if she wanted a membership. That's where you go?"

"Yeah."

Jasper rubbed his jaw line pensively. "How do you like it?"

"It's really good. It helps you focus on your breath. I never realized how vital regulating your breath was, but if you learn to become more conscientious of it and harness it's strength, it's really powerful."

"Potent breathing. Sounds awesome." Jasper pursed his lips and tilted his head toward me, begging me silently to come up with something better.

"We also learn positions like down dog," I added quietly, trying to fight a smile.

Edward's head swiveled around in my direction. His gaze rested on a poster of Faulkner quotes above my head.

"Really?" Jasper said. "That's cool. How is that?"

"That's basic. We learn a lot positions that are a lot more strenuous than that. It really helps with endurance."

"I want to endure." Jasper licked his lips.

"Hmm. That's nice."

"Well Alice was wondering if you could show us some stuff."

"_Us_?" I asked.

Edward was studying a potted ficus very intently.

Jasper shrugged. "Yeah. She wants to be more flexible, but she's not sure if it's worth getting a gym membership over. You practice on your own, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, can you practice with her some. I won't be there every time. But I want to watch."

"So wait until she practices on her own. Why do you need to be there with me?"

"I want to make sure she's in good hands," he said simply.

"Wow, thanks for being honest."

Jasper turned to Edward, "See, I told you. Just be honest with them, they'll appreciate it."

A pencil twirled between Edward's fingers. He stuck it behind his ear and cut a glance at Jasper. He snickered once. Then listened to the lecutre.

"As long as your girlfriend's there," I whispered, "I don't see anything wrong."

Jasper laughed under his breath. "I don't either."

The bell rang. I stacked my books on my desk and gathered them up. Edward and Jasper stood up and started arguing in furious whispers.

Rose and Angela were waiting outside the class room to walk with me to my truck.

Angela slid in next to me in the front while Rose hopped into the back.

She always sat back there. Never once has she tried to call shot gun since she's been friends with us. Or accepted it when it's been offered.

I threw the car in gear and pulled the car out the lot. Spanish guitar warbled over the static on the radio.

"So I heard about what happened with Edward," Angela said.

"Yeah. He knows it was me, too. But that's alright."

"Really?"

"Yeah. If it's me, he knows it wasn't some meaningless prank. He knows there was a message behind it."

"A message. Right-o."

"There was!"

Angela snorted and then slapped a hand over her mouth.

Then we both started snickering.

"Message being 'I'm pathetic'," I said.

She patted my hand on the stick shift. "If you want Edward's crabs, go ahead."

"Did everyone know I was crushing on Cullen?"

"No… just Rose and me."

"Me and my traitor vagina," I sighed.

"It happens to the best of us dear," she responded.

"This sucks though. He needed to be screwed over, but by someone who literally doesn't want to screw-"

"Bella, you're freaking out too much. If it makes you feel any better, it looks like a prank, so it really is harmless. Sure, some girls won't want to touch him- but I'm not crying over that."

"I just feel... like such an idiot. If I like him, than how could the prank have been done for the right reasons? I did it because he's an asshole! But if I want him, then that's just-"

"Whatever," she said. "I still got a kick out of it."

My brows twisted in delighted shock. I had hoped Angela would get some satisfaction out of it, but vengeance wasn't really her pastime.

"You showed him what it felt like," she said quietly. "I imagine he felt mortified like I did when his etarded date started chewing on my hair."

What Angela left out was that when she asked the girl to shove off, Edward laughed and said, 'Come on Angie, this is like the most play you've ever gotten. You don't have to act coy in front of us.'

I chewed the side of my cheek. "You should hate me Angela. He was so mean to you. The fact that I-"

Rose tapped on the back window and yelled, "Bella, I keep catching tail ends of Negative Nancy back here. Put Negative Nancy back in her cage. Bitchy Bella out, Negative Nancy in."

"Are those the two sides of my personality?" I asked, pulling into the coffee shop. "That sucks."

We walked up to the counter and Angela order her passion tea. I was scanning the strudels in the display case when I heard a gasp from Rose.

Rose doesn't gasp.

I looked at her stricken face and followed her gaze to a table in the back corner of the coffee shop.

Where Royce, her ex boyfriend from sophomore year, was holding hands with a fifteen year old redhead.

"Rose, do you want to leave? We can leave, sweetie," I said, grabbing her hand.

And then someone said it.

"_I heard that Royce and Rose had a baby two years ago."_

Rosalie whirled around and glared at the mousy girl behind the cash register, whispering to another barista.

"I didn't have his baby, bitch. We gave it up. It's not ours anymore. So go fuck yourself."

The two baristas looked shocked. Temporarily.

Unabashed delight soon lit up their faces.

Angela groaned next to me. I started chewing on one of my knuckles.

We weren't embarrassed for ourselves, I swear.

But the horrible truth was, people probably would have stopped talking about this a while ago. The thing is, every time they taunted Rose about the baby, they came away with a crazy bitch story they could regale their friends with later. So the issue never dropped.

Rose started to walk off towards Royce. I yanked back on her hand, hissing, "What are you doing?"

She grinned back at me like she was the damn Joker a la Jack Nicholson.

"Nothing," she responded excitedly. She was smiling so hard. Her eyes sparkled so hard.

And I wanted to cry, seeing her situate her skirt while she sat down at a table next to Royce.

Royce didn't look up at her once. His date went along very nicely.

**EPOV**

"Dude," I started, as soon as Bella walked away after the bell, "what the fuck? Yoga?"

Jasper smiled. "Harmless fun. Don't worry."

"Jasper, I'm serious."

"Getting a little anal over Bella?"

We were in the hall now, making our way to football practice.

"Listen _fuckstick_-".

"I was just screwing with you," Jasper said, rolling his eyes. "I know you got some angst for her. Just needed to verify. Who knew she'd go for it?"

Jasper took his cell phone out. Lauren was passing in a denim mini skirt, and he slipped the phone under the hem.

Lauren glanced at him, completely horrorstruck. Jasper blew a kiss at her, and we continued walking.

And she stood there, just gaping. No screaming.

"Did you just take a picture of Lauren?" I asked.

"I saw her thong during second period. Alice always wants me to go shopping with her, and it's fucking annoying. So she tells me to take pictures of what I like on girls and show them to her. See look, I'm sending it to her now as a picture message."

He flashed me the screen of his cell phone as proof.

"You can't be getting a lot of detail on those thong shots. I don't know why Alice needs a picture for that."

"Uh, it's a pretty color?"

"Do you have any pictures of Bella in there?" I asked.

"Why, do you want a sneak preview?"

"Be careful man. We're eighteen- some of these girls would constitute as kiddy porn."

"I do my research."

We walked out the double doors and unto the football field, heading towards the gym. Emmett was approaching us from the direction of auditorium, and I wanted to duck. He was wearing this big shit eating grin, which _never_ bode well.

"So, Edward, got something you wanna talk about ?" Emmett asked.

"No."

"Crab got your tongue?"

"Yes."

The beeps from Jasper's cell phone filled a momentary silence.

_How many pictures does he have?_

"Want to know what I think?" Emmett persisted.

"No."

Another set of footsteps began to match pace with our own.

My doppelganger, Tom, had joined the group.

"Yo guys," Tom said, "What's happening?"

I nodded hello to him and resumed ignoring my brother.

"I think Bella had something to do with your locker," Emmett said.

"Huh," I responded.

Tom started, "Hey Edward, weren't you and Bella friends when you were kids-"

"Tommy, you're out of your element," Emmett boomed. "Look, Edward, I want to know why you went after her in front of Mr. Laurent. You haven't gone out of your way to talk to her in years."

My pace quickened. I had no idea why I didn't want to tell anyone about Bella's prank.

I was pissed off and I wanted to thrash her, but still.

What she did to me, it seemed oddly… intimate. Between us. Even though everyone fucking saw it. I didn't feel like listening to him laugh about it.

"Man, I live with you. You can't outrun me forever," Emmett said.

_Asshole was relentless._

"Before Mr. Laurent found me, she told me something was going to happen to me, alright?"

"So she admitted it."

"Basically. I mean, I know her. She would have chewed me out if it hadn't been true when I confronted her. She knew she was caught. She couldn't say a damn thing."

"Whoa, so why would she do that?" Tom asked.

"Bella wants balls," Emmett said.

Tom said, "But Edward said she was a dyke-"

"Not just any balls though," Emmett said. "Bella wants Edward's balls."

"Emmett," I sighed.

He shrugged. "Your balls. Her butt. Meet and greet."

"Emmett, _stop_."

"Listen up bitch, because I'm your weatherman. There's gonna be a drought until this crab front blows over. You might as well tap that at Charlie's barbecue tomorrow."

"I'm about to tap you upside your jaw."

"Why are you- dude, you don't still care about that shit? It happened five years ago man. I'm sure Bella's forgotten."

I glared at Emmett. And tried to suppress a snicker.

As if Bella could ever forget.

Emmett cracked a smile.

"Well, maybe not. But you know what I mean," he persisted.

"Jasper sure hasn't forgotten."

Jasper shook his head emphatically.

"What are you guys talking about?" Tom asked.

"Because that was the best moment of Jasper's life up until that point," Emmett said, ignoring Tom, "It completely changed him. He's been a voyeur ever since."

Jasper waved his cell phone in the air as exhibit A, and went back to scrolling through his pics.

We walked into the gym and headed into the locker room.

The room was rank with the smells of toilet bowl cleaner, Axe deodorant, and stale sweat- and mass hating.

"Dude, Ed ain't showering with us unless he cleans out the shower with bleach," Mike started.

"Thing is man, he's gonna fuck up the Fork pool. I'm scared to get some now. Hopefully this stops him before every chick-" Tyler said.

Then they noticed us and started figuring out how to put their shirts on. Tyler cleared his throat and went to use the bathroom.

"So, you wanna tell us why you charged Bella after Mr. Laurent made you open your locker?" Mike snapped.

I started undressing. Mike remained motionless, waiting for an answer he wasn't going to get.

"He was confronting Bella," Tom offered.

Tom could be such a lap dog sometimes.

"Why?" Mike asked.

"Cause Bella put that shit in there." Tom went to elbow me in the side, and I side stepped it.

"Yeah right," Conner responded. "Why would she do that?"

I shrugged.

Let them think what they want.

"Because she wants other bitches off his jock," Emmett said, laughing. "Ain't it obvious?"

"No way, Bella hates Edward," Mike seethed.

"Bella said she did it. She's been spreading that shit all over the place," Tom lied.

"Yeah right." Mike's face was getting a little red now.

"Whatever man, your girlfriend's pulling Fatal Attraction shit on Edward, not you. Get over it," Tom countered.

"I'd let her boil my rabbit," Emmett responded as he tugged his gym shorts on. "Now Rose… Jesus. That girl is smok_ing_."

"What?! Her fit's permanently jacked up after popping out that kid. We're in high school- time for tight twat," Tyler responded, who had reappeared.

"Wrong and wrong, my man," Emmett said. "I'll whip that pussy pliant and then lovingly mold it to my fit. And on your second point- you'd be sooo surprised. I've messed around with some big, gaping, virgin pussy."

"Yeah dude, vag size can be genetic. I straight up got lost in Carmen, and I was the first guy she was with. It was the Cave of Wonders in there," Jasper muttered from the bench. He was already dressed, and was back to looking at his cell phone.

"What about stretch marks?" Conner piped up.

"I'd say, 'Come here baby, lemme lick on the dotted line'," Emmett responded.

"You're a freak," Mike said.

"You have no idea. Did you tell them about Sue?" I asked.

"OOOh, Mrs. Clearwater." Emmett had a faraway look in his eyes.

"_Missus_? As in married?" Conner squeaked.

"Widowed," someone yelled from the back of the room.

All the guys had congregated around Emmett, like he was Jesus doing the Sermon on the Mount.

"Mr. Clearwater died of a heart attack- while he was in Mrs. Clearwater," I answered.

The whole locker room erupted in "UGGHH" and "DUDDDE". Emmett raised his arms to quiet the guys, nodding his head in acknowledgment to the natural disgust.

"Hey, hey, I will not have anyone thinking ill of my Sue. People thought her poon was haunted after that. Poor woman hadn't had a date in years, and she's good looking."

"Sue, you gave that man a fine send-off," Jasper said in a reverent tone, still not looking up from the damn cell phone.

"Dude- Mr. Clearwater could not rest in his grave knowing his wife was all alone," Emmett was saying, "On his behalf, I-"

"You see, Emmet and I were doing some landscaping work at her house. So while he's beating her bush, I'm fucking mowing the lawn," I interjected.

"MAGGOTS!" the coach yelled from the doorway, "Stop pussy footing around and get out here."

"Yeah Mike, get your foot out of Tyler's pussy," I said.

"But she _killed_ a guy though," Conner whined.

"What? It's not like there's man eating Venus fly trapper between her legs," I protested. "Man had a heart condition. Couldn't take it."

"And I'm fit as a fucking fiddle. One man's death trap is another man's extreme sport," Emmett finished smugly.

"Emmett here is our ambassador for the Island of Misfit Pussy," I said, turning towards the door.

"And Edward's our crab fisherman," Emmett finished, walking behind me and slapping my back.

Everyone filing out behind us seemed to hold their breath. What fucking chicks. Like they were waiting for me to throw my Gatorade in Emmett's face and call him a catty ho.

"So whatcha gonna do about Bella?" Emmett asked as we started doing our leg stretches.

I hadn't thought about it. I only thought about how pissed off I was.

Ontop of how turned I have been.

Seemed simple though.

"Oh, I'm gonna fuck her up," I responded, before dropped to the ground and started doing my push-ups.

**Flashbacks will be every other chapter.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight characters.**

**Rose had Royce's baby in sophomore year of high school. She gave it up for adoption. They are seniors now.**

**It takes a village to raise a fanfic. Seriously. My village is the Twilighted forum. GiveUsAKiss413- cheers to your awesomeness. Tell baby to simmer down. And to WtVoC, you know why.**

**I can't believe I'm making an author's note for this… Minge: pubic hair. Yeah, the song that Edward flashes back to is on my profile.**

**EPOV**

"Edward, you need to get your balls back," Emmett said. He blasted the car horn at a squirrel that was about to cross the street.

"Excuse me?"

"Bella stole your balls all those years ago. You need to rescue them. You know, Special Ops shit."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Jasper leaned in from the back seat of the car, poking his head between Emmett and I. "You keep playing it safe. C'mon, Jessica? Please. Why eat tuna sandwiches constantly when you could have the red snapper. You're scared. Why is he scared?"

"Because Bella stole his balls," Emmett said.

"What are you, the Dr. Phil of fucking?" I snapped.

"All I'm saying is-" Jasper filched the pack of gum sticking out of jeans pocket, "titty-fuck her once, and you'll be a new man." He leaned back into his seat, sprawling out, resting his feet on my head rest. I batted his sneakers off, only to have Jasper place them on top of my head.

"DUDE. This is _Bella._" I tore one of Jasper's shoes off and dangled it out the car window, and he dropped his feet after giving me a kick in the ear.

"Oh shut up Edward," Emmett said. "You want to 'fuck her up', but you don't want to fuck her? At least get her off."

Jasper reached outside from his back window and snagged his shoe out of my hand.

"You don't understand," I said, biting my nails.

"Can you explain it to us?" Jasper asked.

I thought about Bella giving me a toothy blowjob.

Would I then kick her out of my car?

I would rather pour pig's blood on her at prom. At least then she's not a slut in my eyes.

"No," I said, spitting a nail on the front dashboard.

"Then can the damn vengeance scheme and get your balls back. It'll be amazing man. Like the Empire Strikes Vag," Emmett said.

"Or Indian Jones and Raiders of the Lost Arse," Jasper chimed in.

I shook my head, trying to exorcise the flashbacks of that godforsaken night five years ago.

_Bella clambering out of our sleeping bag._

_Jasper chortling away, his voice cracking every other giggle._

_That damn Butthole Surfer song playing on the radio._

"You would be The Lord of the Minge," Emmett was saying.

"SQUIRREL!" I yelled, lunging for the steering wheel and yanking it out of Emmett grip. The car skidded off the road and in front of a sidewalk café. A sign advertising smoothies flew over the windshield and thudded once on the roof of the car.

"Mother's ass Edward!" Emmett yelled.

I shrugged, and started biting the nails on my other hand.

_Flashback: 12 years old._

_Edward sat down in the wicker rocker like he was being strapped into an electric chair._

_Bella put a bowl on top of his head, pressing down his shoulder length bronze locks._

"_Bella, isn't this what you have Barbie dolls for?"_

_Bella scowled. "I don't play with those anymore, jerk. And besides, you promised me that if you broke up with Jessica, you would let me cut your hair."_

"_You never said it would be a bowl cut. I' m going to look retarded."_

_Bella reached for the large pair of scissors with orange handles, and started lopping off his tresses. "You would look worse if I didn't have the bowl as a guide. Have you ever seen my Barbies?"_

"_I don't play with Barbies."_

"_Nah-uh. We've played sex with them."_

_Edward was silent for a moment, watching his hair falls to the floor._

"_So why don't you want to be with Jessica anymore? You made her sad." _

"_She wouldn't give me tongue," Edward said._

_Bella chewed her lip. "Oh. I guess that makes sense."_

"_Really? You aren't mad?" Edward sounded relieved._

"_Well…"_

"_What?"_

"_Is french kissing that important? Between a boy and a girl?"_

"_Oh, well yeah," he responded._

_Her face grew red. She started hacking away more furiously at his hair._

"_Bella! You're pulling my hair!" He turned around to look at her, the bowl sliding low over his eyes._

"_Hold still! You'll make me mess up-" She looked at him with tears in her eyes._

"_What's wrong?" he asked, standing up and putting his hands on her shoulders. The bowl fell off his head and rattled on the floor._

"_Nothing."_

"_That's bull. Tell me," he pleaded._

_She wiped away a tear. "It's stupid. I just haven't- uh-"_

"_Is this about kissing?"_

_Her eyes darted to the floor, "Let's forget about it."_

"_I could do it- I mean- uh- you've never done it right?"_

"…_no…"_

_He bit his lip. "Okay," he said quietly. "Open your mouth a little."_

_Her eyebrows shot up. "Huh?"_

_Before his resolve could weaken, he dove in for her mouth, charging tongue first. She made a little squeak and closed her eyes. Her hands twisted through his half hacked hair._

_Then she huffed and pulled back._

"_What?" he asked._

"_Nothing," she said, bending down to pick up the bowl._

"_I'm gonna think about it all day. What did you make that noise for?"_

"_Well… how many other girls have you French kissed?"_

"_Um…uh… one. No two. Yeah, two."_

_Bella knew he was lying. He hadn't kissed anyone. Since he lied, she would show him no mercy._

"_Well, for girl number four, move your tongue around some more. It felt like a slug!" she said, giggling._

_He squinted his eyes at her, and gave her a titty twister._

**BPOV**

"Dad, are you really wearing that shirt?"

Charlie looked down at the white T-shirt that featured a picture of him holding a shotgun. Behind him, my mother was sprawled on the hood of the police cruiser like Tawny Kitaen in the White Snake video.

"What's wrong with it? Your mother gave it to me for Valentine's day."

"It's.. uh…well…"

He grunted. "Bella, I already have your mom riding me about how I dress. Let's give your old dad a break, huh?"

I tossed my hands in the air. "Fine. Go ahead. "

"Did you find my Guns N' Roses CD?" he asked, grabbing chicken and ground beef out of the fridge. "I can't make my grill burgers without G N'R, you know," he mumbled, wedging barbecue and Worcester sauce in the pit of his elbow.

I slapped the CD on the kitchen table. "I got your Appetite for Destruction all here."

"It's the special ingredient."

The doorbell rang and I sprinted to open the front door.

"Carlisle! Esme!"

Dr. Cullen and my dad had been The Odd Couple BFF 's ever since the sandbox. After college, they started having these monthly get-togethers.

I wrapped my arms around Carlisle and then Esme. "Wow- I love your new haircut, Esme. You look like Kevin Spacey 's wife in American Beauty."

Carlisle's eyes widened and he bit his lip. Esme scowled, smoothing her hand over her hair. "Um, thanks Bella," she said.

_Oh, crap. Wrong thing to say._ Apologizing would only make it worse.

I peered over their shoulders. "Did you finally leave your sons at home? Oh happy day!"

"Such the kidder you are, Bella," Carlisle said, pinching my cheek. "They should be pulling up any minute now. They were following in their own car-"

Emmett, Edward, and Jasper suddenly appeared in the doorway behind them.

Esme gave me a tight smile and quickly side stepped me, heading towards the back of the house.

"Bella!" Jasper greeted, leading the Cullen boys into the house. "I figured you wouldn't mind if I crashed the barbecue."

I grunted in recognition. "Sup Count Cullen?" I asked, extending a fist to Carlisle.

He rolled his eyes and extended me his fist, bumping me off. "How many times must we go over this Bella, it's not Count Cullen- if I ever become a rapper, I want Emcee Cullen, get it?"

"Count Cullen lends itself to more costume opportunities. Can't you envision a James Brown type velvet cape the bitches will have to take off of you?"

"And then when I battle other rappers, they'll tell me I suck like Dracula."

"But suck like Dracula- you could totally flip that in your favor you know."

My hands slapped over my mouth. Instantly, I realized how that could be taken.

Carlisle raised his eyebrows. "_Indeed_."

A blush spread across my face and I think I mumbled something about a filter, glancing down at the shag carpet.

When I looked up, Carlisle was mercifully gone. Only Emmett and Edward were left in the room.

Edward looked livid. I wanted to bite his jaw when it was that tense.

"What?" I asked defensively.

"Would you have said that little Dracula comment in front of my mom?" Edward asked.

"It popped out of my mouth- so yeah, I would have made a fool of myself in front of your mom, just like I made a fool of myself in front of your dad."

He dragged a hand across his eyes, mussing up his eyebrows. "Get some fucking decency."

"Excuse me?!" I snarled.

"Aww Ed, c'mon. If Bella's all giddy over the old model, think of how feels over the updated version," Emmet said.

"Emmett, a minute," Edward sighed.

"Just remember Bella- Edward runs a four minute mile. Carlisle wears a back brace for his herniated disc. Choose wisely. The Cullen men don't train their bitches."

"Good to know, Em."

"And by the way, Carlisle likes Icy-Hot for his back- that Bengay stuff makes him break out in a rash."

My hands covered my whole face this time.

_They're torturing you and you deserve it. Buck up and take it._

"But do not use the Ice-Hot on the love scepter, whatever you do. Remember what happened when Tom did that?" Emmett asked.

"Whoa, whoa- wait- why the hell do you know that about Tom?" I asked, still covering my face.

"He ran out of the room with his pants around his ankles," Emmett stated. "Totally shitfaced and decided to squeeze one off in the bathroom –figuring the shit would be cooling and soothing or whatever- forgetting that 'hot' follows 'icy'. Runs screaming out into the living room in the middle of a kegger, with this purple and blue woodie saluting all the guests."

I slid my hands to below my eyes. "Purple and blue?"

"From the chemicals," Edward said. "And the Menthol in it keeps your dick hard for hours"

He blew an auburn lock out of his eyes and I felt someone kicked me in the lung.

"And it was burning the hell out of him and it was AWESOME. We had all the girls grinding on him," Emmett continued.

"If only you could have done that before he found the Icy-Hot."

Edward gawked at me like I grew another head. "And the point of that would be?"

I started laughing and Edward gave me his crooked smile.

_Whoa, where did this civility come from?_

I looked around and noticed Emmett had disappeared.

"So, um… why is your brother insinuating that we're going to hook-up?" I asked.

Edward wrinkled his nose. "Probably 'cause you gave me Derbac. You have some crabs you looking to pawn off?"

I flashed him what I hoped was a disarming smile. "You have every right in the world to be bitter and upset. I acted horrendously, so I understand if you lash out. I'm going to join the barbecue, and I hope I see you soon."

Edward looked guffawed.

_That' right. Not going to play ball and trade insults with you. Loser._

I made strides towards the back door. Outside, "Paradise City" by Guns N' Roses blared over the radio. Renee, Esme, and Carlisle stood discussing bad housing market. Next to them was my Charlie, lounging in a fold out chair, his eyes closed, pawing away at his beer belly.

"Hey dad, you enjoying yourself?"

Charlie flashed me a Buddha grin and smacked his gums a couple of times.

"What about you Bella? Are you enjoying yourself?" Edward asked behind me.

"You can't drink beer," I said.

Edward looked at his bottle of Miller Lite. "Jasper is going to drive us home. So dad said it was cool."

"What?"

"Bella, quit being hall monitor," Charlie said. "It's legal for minors over the age of thirteen to drink if their parents are supervising."

"So can I drink?" I asked.

"Heck no, young lady." Charlie belched, and waved the burp away from his face.

Edward stuck his tongue in between two fingers and flicked it back and forth.

Like a jackass I glanced around, hoping that an adult caught that exchange. Edward snickered at me.

"Oh Charlie, if Bella doesn't drink now, she'll go crazy with freedom in college. She'll be one of those girls letting hip hoppers do body shots off of her," my mom squealed, sidling on to Charlie's lap.

"Bella, no hip hoppers," Charlie murmured, nuzzling Renee's hair.

"I'm going to hit on the nearest emcee if you don't give me Miller, Dad," I threatened.

Edward choked on his gulp of beer.

Charlie scowled at me from the crook of my mom's neck.

"Bella, you're gonna be a writer, right?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah."

"In forty years, when the A&E special comes out, do you want your ol' dad to get caned when the nursing to hears how you started drinking under my roof?"

"Uh… well."

"No. The answer's no, or no college fund."

"Ugh," I fumed, stomping off.

On the opposite side of the backyard, Jasper was reigning over the barbecue pit.

"What the hell Jasper? Did you usurp my dad from the pit?"

"Baby girl, I'm Texan. Your daddy understands," Jasper said.

"Are you going to try to state your case about drinking?"

He shrugged, leaning forward to inspect a patty.

"His parents aren't here to supervise, are they?" Edward asked, appearing next to me.

I snorted. "As if that will stop you from sneaking anything to him."

"True, but he doesn't drink."

"What?"

"It's true," Edward insisted.

"Drinking is the second leading cause of male impotency," Jasper explained, his back still to us.

"What's the first?" I asked.

"Smoking. Don't do that either. All drugs fuck up your mojo, that's why I don't touch the shit, unlike other assholes."

Edward shrugged. "If I don't temper the monster some kind of way, I'd crack girls' spines."

My knees weakened slightly. And in my sexed-up, purple haze, I muttered, "It's true."

Suddenly I was thirteen, listening Butthole Surfers and reeking of bugspray_._ Christ, I was about to black out.

Jasper sniggered and some beer sputtered into the grass.

"What's true?" Carlisle asked.

_When the hell did he show up?_

"Bella wants her spine cracked," Jasper said, flipping a burger over.

"Really? What's wrong Bella?" Carlisle put his drink on the barbecue pit and crossed his arms, his eyebrows furrowing. I eyed his midsection, looking for any sign of a back brace.

_Whatever, it gives him amazing posture. He still looks like a blond George Clooney._

So, so wrong.

"_Get some fucking decency." Edward said._

Think before you lecture, Edward.

"I just did some really advanced moves in yoga. I over exerted myself," I said blithely, standing on the tips of my toes and stretching my arms over my head.

"I can crack your back. C'mere," Carlisle said.

_What?Holy shit._

"Uh, are you sure?" I asked nervously.

Behind a nodding Carlisle, Edward slid his finger across his neck.

"I'm a doctor. Why not?" The corners of Carlisle's mouth twitched in a frown. He shoved his spectacles up his face.

_Bad, bad. NO._

"Alrighty then," I said, turning around so my back was against his chest.

He hooked his arms under mine, and cupped his hands behind my neck.

"Dad, won't this be bad for your back?" Edward whined.

"Now, now Edward, papi does this all time," Jasper said.

_DOWN GIRL._

I almost lurched out of Carlisle's grip right then. But suddenly I was swung back into his chest, my spine crunching as his arms flexed around me.

"Oww… OOH…_ooo_…" I wiggled around as I felt the tension release from my back muscles.

"Better?" he whispered behind me.

The he dropped me and backed away.

"Hot damn, this meat is delectable!" Jasper yelled, licking his fingers of barbecue sauce.

Edward stalked past me, holding a plate of steaming carnage.

Everyone was congregated at the picnic table, but I was staked to my spot.

Was this the moment in my life where I became a bad person?

The marker in the sand, the defining point of damnation, whereafter I have to down dirty martinis and keep skanky friends and bounce from bed to bed?

Dammit, _no_.

I grit my teeth and headed towards my family, trying to not look insanely guilty when I met Esme's glance. At the table, I saw Rose chittering away with Emmett, who I realized had been M.I.A. for most of the hour.

"Hey Rose! I didn't know you were here," I said, sliding in next to her.

"Oh sorry, I should have told you. I've actually been here for a little while-" she said.

"I borrowed her," Emmett replied. He shot Rose a furtive smile.

I pursed my lips, but let it go.

For most of the meal I exiled myself from the conversation.

To be or not to be a tramp, that was the question.

I did not want to be a tramp. Who does? The question was though- was I? One can't fight their nature. I did an inventory of my feelings over the Carlisle situation, hoping I could gain some insight.

I felt a funny mix of disgust and amusement over the whole affair.

_Disgust means you have a moral compass. Amusement signifies you're a jaded strumpet. _

I dropped my head on the table, rattling the silverware.

"Bella, quit being weird," Charlie said.

Edward laughed lowly into his bottle of beer, making hollow noises like he was playing a rudimentary horn.

"Oh hush it, side burns," I snapped.

Edward rolled his eyes.

"Sorry I'm bad at making people feel bad."

Edward mouthed _But you are._

Rose said, "How do you get those sideburns so straight, Edward? Usually when I see guys with sideburns, they're a little off. But yours are pretty perfect."

"It's not that hard, you use facial features as reference points. But it's not just the length that's important, it's the angle too. So you should use two mirrors-"

Edward cut himself off as he felt Jasper and Emmett's stares boring into him.

"Yeah, whatever, I'm a little metro."

Esme cringed and thrust her fingers over her sternum like she had an awful case of heartburn.

After lunch was finished, I grabbed Rose and pulled her into a secluded corner of the back yared.

"Spill." I shoved my fists into my waist.

She leaned over, a sly look on her face, and thrust her hands in between her thighs like a little kid trying to not pee themselves. "Nah-uh."

"ROSE. You let him answer for you at the table."

The highest giggle ever followed.

"He's just a warm-up, Bella. I need to get back into the dating game. But I'm rusty, with being blacklisted and all. Emmett told me he would be my coach."

"Wait, you had this conversation? Already?"

Rose's gave me a dopey grin.

"So," I continued, "What's this going to be like? At school-"

Her face darkened. "I told him to act like nothing's going on."

"What?!"

"I don't want people making fun of him because of me."

"Jesus Rose."

"Look, this is a good thing for me. I don't need any lectures about self-respect. Just drop it."

Tears edged her eyes. I bit back my tirade about high school hypocrisy and wrapped my arms around her.

We headed back towards my parents. And stopped short in the middle of the yard.

"What are they doing?" Rose asked.

Jasper lapped at a jug. Edward chugged from a glass pitcher. Emmett sucked on a hose. We watched as they drank water for about a minute and a half.

"They're seeing who can drink the most water," Renee said behind us.

"Huh?" I asked.

"Edward told me about it," Renee responded.

"Well, Edward and Jasper are both about to run out," Rose muttered.

Edward started slapping the side of glass pitcher, eyeing my mom. She was carrying two fresh jugs of water, and oddly blushing.

Jasper sucker punched Edward in the stomach, causing him to choke and sputter water.

"Let me get that, mom. Go tend to dad."

"Uh- are you sure?"

I yanked the jugs away and stormed off towards Edward.

Edward and I locked eyes right as I went to pour the water over his chest. I hesitated.

Then he swatted the jug out of my hands, dousing the front of my shirt.

"What a day to go braless, huh?" Edward said, wiping the water from his pink lips. He absently flicked one of my nipples through my shirt.

My mourth dropped. My pelvis throbbed. Every inch of body erupted in goose flesh.

"What the hell Edward?" I barked.

Edward looked at me with shock and awe in his green eyes.

"Uh, shit. Sorry?"

"Hell yeah you're sorry." I turned in the direction of our families. "HEY, OFFICER FATHER, GUESS WHAT-"

Suddenly, a hand clamped over my mouth, and I was being dragged off towards the screened-in back porch.

"Calm your little hot ass down," he said. We clambered up the steps, my sneakers futilely grinding into the cinder blocks as I tried to slow him down.

He squeezed his fingers into my cheeks. I drooled into his hand. The porch door rattled behind us. With a disgusted grunt, he released me and winced at the discharge in his hand. _Slap. _The hand made contact with my lower abdomen. He dragged the dripping hand up the middle, dragging my shirt up with. He dipped his head to the side, letting his eyes rove over my exposed mid riff.

And he wasn't going to do shit.

"Pussy," I snapped.

He smiled his punisher grin, and without tearing his eyes away from my stomach, he leaned in next to my ear.

"One day I'm going to eat your words," he whispered.

**A/N: What Charlie says about underage drinking is true in my hometown, and I'm pretending that's it's true everywhere. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Many thanks to acireamos****, BITTENEV, withthevampsofcourse, and jandco. You gave me the balls to do this. And special noogie to my beta, WtVoC.**

**If I can't respond to your reviews, I'm up to eyeballs in school, college just started. Your reviews keep me going; I snuggle them at night.**

**EPOV**

"Alice, what the hell?" Emmett asked.

Emmett and I shook our heads in distaste. Alice leaned down to study the back of her Porsche and frowned up at us.

"What's wrong with it?" she asked.

"You aren't a cowboy. You hate horses. It's totally out of line." Emmett continued.

Emmett's policing the line now.

"Jasper's my cowboy. DUH!" Alice said, running her palm along the edges of the bumper sticker to smooth out the creases.

Alice swore she would never mar her Porsche with a bumper sticker. Now she had a bumper sticker reading "Save a horse- Ride a Cowboy". In rainbow lettering.

"You aren't gay," Emmett said.

She giggled.

"You know what I mean. The Gay, Straight, & Lesbian Alliance at school is gonna get pissed at your false advertising."

"It's _not_ false-"

"Whatever dude," Emmett said.

She also had a new personalized license plate. A "Horse Enthusiast" license plate, with a horse head embossed on it. That said "COWBI69."

Jasper was shaking his head along the periphery of the driveway, kicking a pine cone. I knew he wasn't thrilled by his girlfriend's display of faux-bi pride, but what boyfriend in his right mind would discourage this shit?

"Remind me if I ever commit a crime never to use your vehicle as a getaway car."

"But it's the fastest."

I pointed to the plate. "A little easy to remember, don't you think? And then I get thrown into lock-up and the cops tell everyone there's a gay cowboy on board. Nice."

"Fine. Get caught in your Volvo and butt raped as a straight man."

Emmett scowled. "So do you guys watch Brokeback Mountain while you're doing it?"

"I'll let her watch it if she lets me put a bit in her mouth," Jasper said.

"I chewed through the last bit-" Alice started.

"But baby, we always have the back-up-"

"I cracked a filling on that!" she shrieked, punching him.

"Alright, alright!" Emmett yelled. "I swear to god, you two go at it like an old married couple. You ain't supposed to hit bit stage until you're forty and get tired of butt fucking- no offense Eddie."

"Shut the fuck up, Emmett."

"So what was Bella up to, by the way?" Jasper asked, "She was acting all sorts of nice at the barbecue."

I tucked my hands under my armpits and tried not to grimace.

Emmett started laughing, "Dude, are you pissy about the Dracula comment? It was funny."

"Then she let him pop her back," Japer said. "And I totally saw her do a half grind against-".

"You boys are assholes," Alice said, writing "dickface forever" into the dirt on the bumper of my car with her forefinger. She wiped the grime off on Jasper's crotch.

We looked at her wide-eyed.

"Oh right, no talking," she said, sticking her finger on her lip. Her dirty-ass finger. I got more than a little satisfaction.

Jasper rolled his eyes, "Come on, what were you saying?"

She dipped her head to the side and pursed her lips in indignation.

The routine went thusly: she would wait until he begged her to say something she knew he desperately did not want to hear.

"Please, Alice, I want to hear what you have to say," he said tiredly. _Bingo._

She gave a pacified smile. "What she said-"

"You have no idea what she said," I snapped. I liked Alice, but she was out of her element.

"Emmett told Jasper, Jasper told me," she snapped. "_Anyway_. It wasn't that bad. Emmett's not pissed. You're just seething because you want to get angry at her and this looks right. Maybe Bella does think Carlisle is hot- guess what? I do, too-"

"AHHH, _dude_," we moaned. Emmett threw an empty package of gum at her.

"Shut up. You especially, Emmett. You have no ground to stand on here," she snapped.

"I have a reason to get mad at Bella, already," I answered.

"The crabs? Oh, honey. Not even you feel bad for you," she said. "Really, it was almost a failed prank on her part."

I rolled my eyes.

"Sweetheart, celestial sunrise, light of my loins- she was being overly friendly," Jasper said.

Alice shrugged. "Girl wanted some attention. High school girls are dangerous- we still have little girl impulses that tell us, 'Wait, I'm totally the center of the universe, right?' But then we have these new boobies that attract satellites with boners. We don't even realize what we're doing half the time."

"Are you really defending her for flirting with our father? What about our mom?" Emmett said.

Alice smiled. "If it was any one else's parents, you both would be _loving_ it. So eat crow."

"You know what?" I said, "You're right. You're not allowed to talk."

As I drove off towards Leah's house, I kept thinking about my dad's groupie. Remembering her shimmying against my dad as he cracked her back... it just amused me.

I cut off other motorists, ran red lights, and merged without signalling. Horns blared and Mike Newton's dad gave me the finger. Still, I couldn't get mad. I needed to get mad.

_Damn_, I'm going to like her no matter what shit she pulls.

In fact, I'm going to like her more for the shit she pulls. Because for every bad thing that she does, it will make me feel less like shit.

I started composing a piano number in my head.

_Bella, get your body under me._

_Here's a dick you'd like to squeeze._

_I'm gonna ride you until cops are called on the scene_

'_cause you're waking the neighbors with your screams._

Titled "I'm Gonna Fuck You Into A Coma, or Bella's Lullaby".

**BPOV**

Edward left me right after his "I'll eat your words" speech. He pulled up a chair next to my dad, the back between his thick, cross-country legs.

Yes, I lurked on my porch, still crazed and horny from his "I'll eat you" speech, watching as he giggled with my dad. They discussed what Edward's first criminal offense should be, whether they should stage the "resisting arrest" fight in the police station, or in public.

He was playing with my head then. Fine; I can take my come-uppance.

I left the porch and headed up to my room for the rest of the day, screaming along to "Semi-Charmed Kind of Life" and hopping around my room. Charlie starting banging on the ceiling of the floor, right underneath my bedroom.

A week passed. Of pointed nothingness. Of pointedly caring about the nothingness. I expected him to suddenly be different to me.

"So, that's the chick who put the boxes of Derbac in your locker?" Felix asked behind me.

"Yeah, that's her," Edward responded.

"You said she was butt-fucking ugly. I don't know. If she dressed right…" Alec responded.

"You can't lipstick a pig," Edward retorted.

After acting heinously, what did I expect? A confrontation?

At the football game that Friday night, Edward had been late getting on the field after half time.

The girls next to me start prattling about the assistant coach- they found him dry humping some LaPush girl over the trunk of his Volvo. While everyone had heard that locker/crab incident was a prank, no one from Forks had volunteered her pristine pubes yet to see if the coast was clear. So he was apparently importing his pussy now.

_DAMMIT. LaPush doesn't know about the crabs!_

I sunk my head into my hands. Any lingering illusions of being Robin Hood -taking play from the dick and giving laughs to the poor- were firmly blasted away from my mind.

I wanted to go to rehab and blame my bad behavior on an imaginary alcohol problem.

Could I ask Charlie to arrest me?

I wondered that as I walked in the front door of my house after the football game. My dad lounged on the sofa, his legs propped up on Renee's lap. She held an ice bag to his head.

"Anything wrong, dad?" I asked.

Charlie glanced up at me from under the bag while Renee muted Sportscenter on the television. "It's nothing- I had to break up this fight between some guys doing construction on the new bank. Got a little ugly, probably got a bruised rib- nothing bad."

"Oh my God, Dad!"

"Heh. You should have seen the other guys- they look- Fine," he mumbed. "But I cuffed them!"

"Good for you!" I said, leaning on the arm of the sofa and stroking his thinning black hair.

"Can you do me a favor, Bella? It's not often I get your mom at my beck and call. But Carlisle came out to the scene and left his doctor bag, and I need to bring it back to him. Can you drop it off at his house?"

The vein in my temple bulged with hissing blood. I imagined myself lifting my dad's legs off my mom's lap, hoisted him off the sofa, and shoving him out the door, tossing the car keys and doctor bag at his back.

"Sure thing, Pops."

"Thanks, honey. His bag is right by the door."

I picked up the leather bag and sulked off into the outdoors. On the drive over there, I kept imagining all the ways I could be ignored or embarrassed. Edward could open the door and slam it in my face. Edward could take the doctor bag, steal whatever goodies Carlisle might keep in there, and then blame it on me. Edward could eye me in the peephole, yell on the other side to his fellow co-hoes "Get a load at this bitch!" and they all come to gawk at me between slits in the Venetian blinds. Edward could be lounging spread eagle on a daybed, having his co-hoes, who are dressed in brass bikinis, Princess Leia get-ups, fanning him with palm fronds and feeding him grapes.

Or- worst case scenario- Edward could not be there at all.

As I pulled down the Cullen's driveway, I focused on taking deep, calming breaths. Even though I think deep breathing is a crock. When you are cornered by a predator, you start taking big panic breaths. The body needs extra oxygen to prime itself for fight or flight. So wasn't I, on some instinctual level, preparing myself for battle? Really damn calming.

Only Carlisle's black Mercedes was parked in the open garage.

A fleeting sense of disappointment shuffled through my bowels. _No abuse today, little masochist._

Then I heard a crunch of glass and a whoosh of air as I parked.

When I pulled up behind the sedan, I inspected the front tire. It was deflating rapidly. Down the driveway several yards was a smashed beer bottle. Probably the Cullen boys'.

Last time I had gotten a flat tire, we discovered my jack was too old to be operational. It had slipped my mind to replace it until now.

"Oh. Hey, Bella," Carlisle said, when he answered the door.

"Hey," I responded, handing him his bag. "You left your bag at the scene of the, err, dispute today. Thanks for helping out with my dad."

"Oh, no problem. How is Charlie doing?"

"He's good. Well, better. Miffed that he didn't get charged with police brutality. But uh, can you help me get a spare on my truck? I got a flat on my way here, and I don't have a tire pump."

"Oh, um, I don't think the tire pump for the Mercedes will work on the truck," he responded.

Why did people with expensive cars always refer to them by their brand?

"Thanks anyway. I guess I'll just call AAA then," I said, digging in my pocket for my phone.

"No, just wait here for Emmett. He should be home after he gets done doing whatever with his football buddies. Come in, it's about to rain."

Not wishing to dirty the hardwood floors, I slipped out of my muddy boots in the front foyer. Esme refurbishes this place every other year so she can get another spread in the two page thick Living Section of the Forks Gazette.

"I was about to watch a movie, any suggestions?" Carlisle asked, leaning ask the Italian silk sofa.

"Erm, no. Hey, where's Esme?"

"She's in Olympia, at a drapery convention."

"Oh."

"Well, make yourself at home. You should call Charlie, let him know you'll be a minute."

After I called Charlie, Carlisle emerged from hall, looking a little gleeful. He dropped a movie, _Point Break_, on the coffee table in front of me.

"VHS? What is this mess?"

Carlisle looked at me sternly. "DVDs are not proven to have a long shelf life. This house has been outfitted with solar panels for when the apocalypse happens. I keep my VHS's because I want to be able to watch Keanu Reeves and Gary Busey while my sons shoot the zombies."

I noticed he was holding something in his hand. "So, err," he said, uncharacteristically stumbling over his words. "I'm going outside for a moment to speak with my lovely wife. Can you set up the movie?"

He stepped outside on the back patio, disappearing off to the side while I set up the movie. A few minutes later, he reappeared, undoing the top three buttons of his dress shirt. The heady aroma of pine enveloped him.

"So, Bella, uhh. You like Cap n' Crunch? The boys don't like crunch berries, but I'm partial to crunch berries. Cap n'Crunch?" He snapped the fingers of both hands and then slapped his hands together.

I was stunned. Carlisle was funny, in a dry, Brit sort of way, but this was almost silly.

"Um. I'm good."

"Cappuccino? I wanna make cappuccino. Never done it. Foam. Want some foam. You want foam? Imma make it for you," he said, bustling into the kitchen.

I narrowed my eyes. _No way._ I slinked outside under the awning.

In a potted plant, there was a lighter and a half-smoked joint.

_Holy shit._

I looked through the door, seeing Carlisle bent over the cappuccino maker, poking it stupidly.

_Assess your options quickly. Now_.

I had done this once, with my friend Jacob in LaPush. It gave me a headache and little else. Usually I passed on this, pleading snobbery. An experience is only as good as the company you keep, and stoners aren't the most literate bunch around.

But Carlisle.

"Oh, hell. Everything in moderation, including moderation," I muttered to myself, placing the roach to lips.

Two minutes later, I stepped back into the house, slipping on the hardwood floors.

_That was fun._

I checked back on Carlisle, who had taken his spectacles off now and had the cappuccino maker turned upside down so he could read the writing on the bottom. Starting at a jog, I ran down to the beginning of the hall and stopped, holding my arms out and surfing the hardwood hall to its end.

"WHOOA!"

Clunk.

I looked up from the floor at the wall I collided with.

"This is why they call it dope," Carlisle said above me, holding a gilt-edged porcelain bowl full of Cap n' Crunch. His forefinger daintily stirred the dry cereal. "Oh! Purple!" His fingers snared a purple crunch berry and he tossed it into his mouth.

"I bet you I could make a cappuccino."

"Good. You're a high school student; barista is more your thing." Carlisle extended me a hand to help me from the floor, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a smug smile.

It reminded me of his son so much. I felt my cheeks flush and I started.

"Let's go watch the movie," he said, turning toward the living room. Another crunch berry soared over his head and I heard it crunch as he caught it in his mouth.

"Let's," I said, my throat dry.

As I sat next to him in the couch, he started to peel off his argyle print socks. I stared ahead at the Copyright Infringement screen on the television, lest his feet start to turn me on.

"So, how do you like my son's weed?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"It's Edward's. I went to look for the movie in his room, and it was hidden behind one of the videos. He's allowed to have weed. It's a plus, really. When my back's killing me, I prefer this to narcotics."

"Wait… wait… you pinched your son's stash… you're okay with him having it… That's, um, liberal."

He frowned, sighing lowly. "At the E.R., I've put together too many kids after they were in car wrecks trying to escape their parent's house to go get loaded."

"Have you ever heard the phrase, 'if give a mouse a cookie, he's going to want a glass of milk'?"

"_I think I smell a rat." _

If I had been thinking too loud, I would have missed it. I glanced at Carlisle, making sure I hadn't misheard the whisper.

His right hand brushed over my thigh on its way to the bowl of Cap n' Crunch. Carlisle was bent toward the table, his ear a breath away from my nose. "Press play," he murmured.

Carlisle leaned back into the sofa, tossing a crunch berry into his mouth.

I gulped, raking my hand across my scalp until my hair was thoroughly frizzed.

I had seen the movie too much for it to serve as a proper distraction from the crunch-berry-flinging DILF next to me. As the movie passed, I concentrated on the noises surrounding me. The drumming of rain against the window pane. Strange warbles of nocturnal birds. The powering on of the icemaker in the Cullen's refrigerator. Anything to draw attention away from the strange happenings in my body.

"Listen you snot-nosed little shit," Carlisle and I both yelled, quoting along with Gary Busey in the movie, "I was takin' shrapnel in Khe Sanh when you were crappin' in your hands and rubbin' it on your face!"

Carlisle stretched his arms over his head, resting his wrists against the wall. As he shifted positions, his pelvis tilted forward, and even through Oxford pants, I could tell he had wide, baby-carrying hips.

_Time to call a cab._

I shivered and hugged my tightening boobs.

"Are you cold?" Carlisle asked.

"Yeah, cold. Very cold," I said.

He got up and walked down the hall, stopping to sift through the linen closet. He returned with an ornate throw blanket, interwoven with scenes of Hellenistic culture.

"There you go." He tucked it around me up to my chin.

"There's a lot of blood and dying," I remarked, inspecting the blanket as Carlisle sat down next to me.

He grabbed a corner of the blanket and pulled it over his lap, studying it. "This," he said, rubbing a naked man holding a dagger to his chest in one hand, a limp woman in another, "depicts _Gaul Killing Himself and His Wife._ It's a famous sculpture from ancient Greece, commemorating a victory over the Gauls. Do you know who the Gauls are?"

"Uh, like the French and the Italians?" I leaned over where his hands were pointing, studying the naked, furious Adonis holding his limp wife.

"Yes, that's right. Well, Gaul stares at the victorious Peloponnesians, and instead of surrendering calmly, he opts to kill his family and commit suicide."

A door slammed against his hinges.

"Oh, hello Edward."

Edward stood in the doorway, openly gaping at us. He was sopping wet from the rainstorm outside, wearing his jersey shorts and a black hoodie that clung to the contours of his chest. Rivulets of rain water trickled from the crown of his head over his eyebrow. His hand kept twisting the doorknob. Letting it snap back. Twisting it again. His eyes were fixed on his dad's lap.

_You're leaning over Carlisle's lap. There's a blanket spread over both of your legs._

"How was the game?" Carlisle asked, stuffing another mouthful of Cap'n Crunch in his mouth.

"What?" Edward rasped.

I tried to inch as inconspicuously as possible away from his father. The right corner of Edward's mouth flickered briefly in a smirk, and his eyes cut from his father and briefly met mine.

Guess I was caught.

Edward sniffed the air. "Have you been smoking my weed again?"

My hand clasped over my mouth.

"Yep," Carlisle said, popping his 'p'. "Would you like to watch the end of Point Break?"

An errant giggle slipped through my fingers. Edward cut another glance towards me, his green gaze much colder the second time.

"Why's Swan here?" he asked.

"My tire's flat. I'm waiting for Em because I need a jack."

He snorted. "A word, Bella?" he asked, nodding his head toward the hall. His wet, darkened hair cast droplets across the floor. "In my room."

I sighed, slowly lurching off the couch. The throw blanket fell off my lap, and Edward glanced at my fly, as though he expected it to be unzipped. He followed closely behind me as I fumbled down the hall. The tension of the situation was fraying my nerves, and I was about to collapse in a fit of laughter.

"God, stop giggling," Edward groaned.

_Guess you already started._

I rested my head against the wall of the hallway and let my body shake with laughter. An arm circled my waist, pulling me into a room.

"Silly ass girl," he said, shaking his head as he switched on the bedroom light. "Are you flirting with my dad?"

He turned to face me, his arm still around my waist. Even his _eyebrows_ were sexy. I fought the urge to suck in my gut.

"No. Yes. Sure."

"Well, cease and desist immediately."

"Edward, I don't like your dad. But- is arguing with you really going to change your mind? It's not like you value my opinion."

"Turn around."

"What?"

"I need to put on dry clothes. Turn around." He circled his forefinger.

I obeyed, turning around and staring at a Motocross poster on his wall.

Then the shuffling of clothes tickled my ears.

_Just a peek._

As his muscles tightened with the movement of his legs removing his pants, the dimples in his ass winked at me.

My vagina bucked against the seam in my jeans.

I snapped my head to the side, focusing on a strange alcove in his room. The floor was piled with soiled clothes. A few feet above the mountain of laundry, a chicken scratch mural was painted on the wall. I moved a couple of steps closer, examining the strange picture.

_A__ll knowledge stems from immediate sensation_was scrawled in Olde English lettering above a cottage. Purple haze, in toddler scribble curly q's leaked out of a chimney.

I felt Edward pacing behind me. He was dressed in a pair of sweat pants and a T shirt.

The cottage was sliced open in a cross section revealing the debauchery within.

A naked woman, with corpulent breasts and an apple-shaped bottom, was lovingly coiled around a phallic hookah. She stroked a lethargic pig while sucking from a suggestive hose. A fucking lute hung on a lopsided wall. On some poorly scaled buffet table, a cornucopia was set up and filled with-

"Tacos. And hotdogs. It's symbolism, get it?" Edward snapped, nervously playing with the drawstrings of his dry sweatshirt.

Outside the kinky cottage, someone was crouched behind a shrub. A pair of sandals stuck out in the grass, and a halo floated above the bush.

"What's that?" I asked, tapping a fingernail on the halo.

"Jesus, hiding behind the bush," Edward said, coughing into the back of his fist.

"Huh?"

"Like he's a stalker."

"How pretentious."

"Look, I was thirteen when I painted it. I thought it was the height of expression then. I know, okay? It sucks, it blows. I can't invite chicks over, ever. Carlisle doesn't allow me to paint over it as punishment for being such a little snit and doing this behind his back."

"You did this when you were thirteen? I don't remember this…"

"It wasn't like this when I knew you."

"What does it all mean?"

He shrugged. "It's pretentious."

"Fine, I'm going to assume you were just sniffing paint thinner when you did this."

"Fine."

I grabbed a felt marker off of his computer desk. "You won't mind me adding a psychedelic mushroom by Christ's feet, than, will you?"

He squeezing my wrist, forcing me to drop the pen, "Knowledge is retarded because we are attempting to make objective statements about the world using subjective senses. And as a corollary, sensation must be the only meter of understanding and conduct. Since sensation is only momentary, you should live for the moment. Like a pig would."

Edward dropped my hand and backed against a wall, resting the heel of his foot against it.

Huh?

Well shit.

I liked him better when I thought he was dumber than me. I could handle him, then.

_Think fast, don't let him know you're impressed._

"So this Hedonism, right? Hedonism is totally the worse thing to happen to pseudo intellectual dicks since acid."

"Whatever. I have ancient Greeks for my philosophy on life; you have cock blocking sarcasm for yours. I think I'll keep mine, thanks."

I blinked rapidly, feeling my eyes starting to burn. _No, no, don't cry._

I know I deserved his retort. My comment sought to debase his articulate answer. He was well within his rights to lash out.

But dammit. I didn't care about his, his _cock_. Damn weed. It made me weepy.

"Isn't hedonism about maximizing pleasure and minimizing pain?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Well, you sure hurt me five years ago when you were trying to get off," I yelped.

He laughed. A short, barking laugh. Scratching the back of his head, he looked at me from under his eyelashes, his lips pulled back in distaste. "Bella, I think I would know how to treat you the second time around."

Suddenly, his mp3 player randomly chose this time to start playing "Pepper" by the Butthole Surfer. Edward's face contorted, like he just sucked a lemon.

"I need to go home," I said brusquely, moving towards the door.

"No, you do not. Charlie knows what weed looks like."

"Why do you care?" I asked, stopping before the door.

"Girl, I don't let _anyone_ walk into the mine field fucked up. No matter who they are."

"You can save your vagrant valiancy."

"Try this for valiancy."

He walked to his computer and switched the monitor on. A beaver, spread out by two nicotine-stained fingers, blinked on the screen. Edward unzipped his jeans, and his pants sagged off his hips, revealing a sliver of sex V between the edge of his shirt and beginning of his boxers.

_Don't gulp. Yell._

"E-Edward!" I screamed as he sat down at his desk chair.

"What?"

He shoved one hand in his boxers and reached towards the speaker to turn up the panting. "You need to stay here, but you don't have to be in my room. Emmett's room is down the hall. Unless, of course…"

_Flashback: 13 years old._

_Carlisle was staying up playing Solitaire next to the camp fire. Every now and then he'd take out his sketch pad and doodle a caricature of Emmett drooling into the dead underbrush or Jasper sucking his thumb. He never drew Edward or Bella, because they were lying as stiff as logs and wore irritated expressions on their faces. _

_He knew they were faking. _

_The radio hummed lowly from a nearby stump._

_Finally, after a couple of hours, Carlisle figured they had earned their right to second base after staying up so late. He slid into his sleeping bag__and quickly passed into a deep sleep. Soon, his snores eclipsed the modern rock radio station._

"_Finally," Edward whispered. He popped out of his sleeping bag and slid into Bella's in one fluid movement. "Scoot over, I'm cramped in here," he said, kissing her neck._

_She remained inert for a moment, fixated on the stars overhead, then moved to make room for him in her bag. For the past two hours, she had been mulling this moment over, wondering how far the two best friends would go with their sexual experimentation. They had played with each other, down there, with their hands._

_Was that enough for tonight? He had stayed up for two hours waiting for his father to go to sleep. She had too, but more out of loyalty to Edward than anticipation for what was to come. Was a hand job enough after such a long wait? Goodness knows she couldn't… put her head down there. The sleeping bag was too small for that sort of maneuver._

_Cold sweat laced her body by the time she rolled on her side to allow Edward more wiggle room. They faced each other now. Edward didn't linger to look at her. He immediately snapped at her lips, tugging and tasting her mouth. His hands curled around the waistband of her cargo shorts and underwear. He yanked them down. The cool nylon of the sleeping bag brushed against her butt._

_She was grateful he was moving so quickly. Anxiety was making her heart thud against her chest. Every second that passed, Carlisle's snores, barely six feet away, seemed to get louder and louder, until she felt he was practically on top of them._

_Edward's hands started doing that crap thing. He clawed her clit like a lotto scratch-off. She wanted to tell him something, but he was her best friend. Letting him know how bad this felt would crush him. But it was starting to burn when she used the bathroom._

"_I don't want to do that," she whispered._

"_What do you want to do?" he asked, pulling back from her. He looked longingly at her mouth, his lips straining out toward them. _

"_Bella, whatever you want," he whispered, adjusting himself in his pants, as though he were trying to ensure her of his decency. Her best friend looked so vulnerable. She felt bad for making fun of him in her head._

"_Let's just do it," she said._

"_Really?" he asked._

_As he asked it, he was pulling his pants down._

"_Yes, really. It might as well be you," she sighed._

_He leaned in and gave her a quick, distracted kiss. He was busy trying to get out of his last pant leg without making too much noise. Soon, they were both freed of their bottoms._

"_Bella, last chance-"_

"_Just go for it- wait? Do we have a condom?"_

"_Uh, will you hate me if I said yes?"_

"_Obviously not."_

_The radio started playing "Pepper" by the Butthole Surfers._

_He smiled and pecked her again on the corner of her mouth. "You rock, Bella."_

_Edward patted the area next to the sleeping bag and found his back pack. After rifling through the pockets, he produced the foil-wrapped square and rolled it over his erection._

_He positioned it at her entrance, but realized she was a little dry. He spat in his hand and applied it to her generously. He kept spitting and lathering it on her, anywhere his dick might touch down. Edward wanted his descent to have a soft landing._

_Bella moaned suddenly. This actually felt right._

"_Ready?" he asked brusquely, scrambling on top of her and pulling her legs open._

"_Yeah," she said. _

_He bit his lip and grabbed his cock, angling it towards the motherland. He plunged. Into a very, very tight place._

_Bella screamed and shot out the sleeping bag, running bottomless into the woods, her hands holding her butt cheeks together._

"_What's wrong with Bella?" Carlisle asked. He leaned up and looked around. "Where is she?"_

_Jasper and Emmett sat up in their sleeping bags, looking droopy-eyed and annoyed at the late hour wake up._

"_She went for a small walk. Had a bad dream__,__ I guess" Edward said, praying that his voice didn't sound shaky. Or that his dad would notice that he was in the wrong sleeping bag._

"_Huh, well, go check on her if she's gone for too long," Carlisle said, and laid back down._

_A minute passed and Emmett and Carlisle resumed a regular pattern of breathing. Edward stared into the fire, petrified. Should he go after his friend? Could he even find her?_

_But Jasper was looking right at him._

"_I never took you for a Butthole Surfer," Jasper said lowly._

_Edward froze. He longed to go after her, but Jasper stayed awake. Edward couldn't bear to put on his pants or take the condom off while Jasper was still talking to him. He wanted to pretend like it never happened. What if after he left, Jasper woke Emmett up and told him? What if they were loud and Carlisle overhead?_

_Edward starting panicking just thinking about it. He wanted to curl into his sleeping bag and cry, but he couldn't, because Jasper was still awake. So he never retrieved Bella from the woods that night._

**Is Carlisle flirting with Bella? This is BPOV, and she is hyperaware of everything that happens between her and Carlisle ever since Edward told her to "get some decency". We are looking at their interaction through an obscured lens.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks to everyone who loved this story and didn't let it just die out. I'm so happy I'm still working on it. & withthevamps, the royal beta.**

_Flashback: Thirteen years old- one week later_

"_Stop throwing pinecones at my daughter's window."_

_Charlie stood on his front porch, trying hard not to laugh at the distraught boy standing in the moonlight._

"_But sir, she won't talk to me. It's been a week, and she keeps avoiding me. She hasn't answered my phone calls. She won't talk to me at school. She even told the teacher on me when I tried-"_

"_Well, she's a tattletale. Don't talk to her, then," Charlie said._

"_Sir! I'm sorry, but we got into a…" Edward looked at the parked police cruiser, gulping. "…a fight last weekend when we went camping, and I need to speak to her." _

_He was on the verge of tears, but he couldn't cry in front of the police chief._

_Charlie turned around to close his front door. "Good night, Edward."_

_The front door banged shut._

_Edward kicked at a dead anthill and looking longingly up at the second floor window. The curtains had an odd peephole of light in the middle, but as soon as Edward noticed it, the peephole vanished and the light turned off._

_The boy eyed the tree next to the Swan's house. He sprang up to the tree, using a familiar route. The tree had been used over the past few months for platonic purposes- when he felt like surprising her or because he wanted a more adventurous way to get into her room. But how many times had he climbed it then, fantasizing about using it for more awesome purposes?_

_The thought of those fantasies now made him choke back a sniffle._

_As he got to the top branch, his hand closed on something sharp and long. A piece of thick wire was coiled around the tree._

_Edward yelped, falling fifteen feet to the ground. His hand had been cut deep. _

_Bella had booby-trapped her tree so he couldn't sneak into her room anymore. _

_He looked up at her window, expecting the curtains to part and her sweet face to peer down. To see him hurt and vulnerable on her front yard. She never did. He had to ride home, clutching his split palm to his chest._

_When Bella rigged her tree, she did it for purely therapeutic reasons. She never thought he would actually climb the tree. She only fantasized he would get cut on her wire. That night, her radio had been on next to her bed. She never heard him cry. Had she known what had happened, she would have been horrified._

**BPOV**

"Son, you have to take Bella home."

"Not in the condition to drive," Edward yelled behind his closed bedroom door.

Carlisle leaned his shoulder against the jamb.

A Felix the Cat-themed clock struck ten on the bedroom wall. I continued pretending to be asleep, curled up in a corner of Emmett's massive bed as I watched Carlisle through the cracked door. Emmett had yet to return home after the football game.

"If you got high knowing that you might have to drive Bella home, I'm taking your car away for two weeks."

A shaft of light fell on Carlisle. "I'm not high. I'm just not in the condition to drive her."

"You fuck up the car, you fuck up Bella, and I fuck up your life," Carlisle snapped, pointing into the room.

Five minutes later, Edward appeared at Emmett's door.

We walked out to his car, and for a second, I allowed myself to just miss his house. I used to be here all the time years ago. Bats dipped in and out of the pines that fringed the massive lawn. Red clouds glossed over the night sky. It smelled like freshly cut, wet grass.

There was a blackberry patch behind his house. His mom and I used to pick berries out there, and we made homemade ice cream with them.

Edward clicked the unlock button for the car.

"Come on," he said, placing his hand on the base of my back and pushing me toward the car.

He tugged the handle open and jogged around to his side._ So damned eager_.

As we drove in his car, I clouded the window with my breath and pressed the side of my fist into the fogged glass. By pressing my thumb five times above the fist print, it looked like a baby's foot. I watched trees slowly zoom by my window.

"Are you high?" I asked, glancing at the speedometer.

"What makes you say that?"

"You're going twenty five miles an hour. Charlie always complains about the way you drive. He says you're a speed demon."

Edward glanced at the speedometer and blinked hard. "I thought I was going fast." His foot pressed on the gas, and we momentarily accelerated. "Still too fast," he said, grabbing the bridge of his nose.

I started laughing.

"What? Don't make fun of me. A Bambi ran out in front of me while I was driving late one night-"

I squeaked. "What happened?"

"I tagged him. Then I brought him to Charlie's barbecue and fed him to you."

As he spoke about the dangers of driving at night, he steered with his knee.

"You would never put a bloody animal in your Volvo. Even to see me eat road kill. You can't hate me that much."

He slanted a look toward me, eyebrows lowered. The corners of his mouth tensed.

"What?" I insisted. "Do you always start jerking off in front of people you hate?"

"God, yes. That's why Newton has the lazy eye."

"Hmm, I'll pack goggles."

"How about just not hang around me?"

"What's the point in that? I have plans for your parent. And the best way to the cow is through the calf."

"You want to fuck my mom, too?"

I shrugged. "If anything to learn some pointers."

A sputtering noise came from Edward. "Okay- please G-rate it, but explain."

"It just looks like she gets good amorous exercise in-"

"Okay, stop."

"What? I've seen her in shorts. Don't be embarrassed- she's a role model."

I was hamming it up a little, trying to throw him off my trail. If I looked lesbian for Esme, I can't be lusting that much for Carlisle.

"You know, maybe you just have raging Oedipal/Elektra things."

"That makes no sense. I can't have both. That means I want to screw and kill the same person. The desires are counterintuitive."

Edward snorted, his thumb nail bent back between his front teeth. "You'd be surprised."

He spit the chewed nail out the open window.

"Real subtle."

He shook his head and bit at the nail on his forefinger. "Not meant to be subtle."

He sneaked a look at me. Passing headlights flared in his green eyes. I felt as though a tuning fork had brushed my labia.

"Well," I choked out, "that's got to be an awkward urge."

He inclined his head in agreement. It tilted toward me. The heady smell of his shampoo drifted toward my face. _Get his hair away from you._

His head hung there. The little clip noises of his teeth snapping at his nail and the whirring of the heating vents filled the car. I started rubbing nervously at my collarbone, and Edward glanced at my hand. His eyes followed the motion of my fingers. The hand trailed down my breast bone.

"Um, so, yeah, about that urge…" I began.

"What? It's not a big deal. Get over yourself," he snapped. He checked his driving. The car had been listing off onto the shoulder. Then he checked my fingers, which came to a rest over my nipple.

"Why don't you get over me first," I said in the shakiest voice I've ever heard. My knees popped opened, hitting the car door and center consul.

_Way to go, jerk-off-_

His knee went under the steering wheel. Edward twisted around, allowing his left hand to reach the stick shift. His right hand slipped under the waistband of my jeans, the steel face of his wristwatch scraping against my stomach. The blue vein jerked in his neck as his fingers probed the confined space of my buckled pants, trying to find a comfortable spot.

"Edward, this is dangerous, you shouldn't-"

"Shh. You'll make me crash."

His fingers glided down my center, his thumb swirling behind it. A crooked smile lit up his face and he glanced down at my crotch.

"See, you want it."

I was about to scowl, embarrassed at how turned on I was, when two fingers dipped inside me. My hands shot to his forearm, like I was going to yank him out.

He snorted as his fingers plumbed deeper. I exhaled in a staggered sigh, tossing my head toward the window. A "Caution: Entering Potential Avalanche Area" sign zoomed by. The fingers twisted inside me, and I grabbed at the handle on the car roof.

His knees maneuvered the car around a corner. His thumb flicked over my clit, his jagged fingernail sending shocks into the pit of my stomach. The lights from a passing truck stop flickered between the trees, flashing an orange strobe light against his face. He shifted the car into fourth gear.

"Please, fucking…"

"What?" he whispered.

He bit his lip. Checked the rearview mirror. I scratched at the rigid arm planted in my pants, my jaw doing the embarrassing shudder-grind thing, and my head bounced back into the headrest.

Then Edward's cell phone rang. "Shit," he said.

He slid his hand out and used it to downshift. I left a gleam on the gear shift that glowed blue from the lights on the stereo. His other hand searched the pocket of the driver's door, and he produced his cell phone.

"Yes, dad?"

I could hear Carlisle bitching from my side. _"Edward, where are you? You only drive slowly when you're loaded."_

"I'm feeling Bella up in the woods."

_"Get home soon, or I'm going to Walgreens and buying a urine test."_

"Completely understandable. I'll be home soon, sir."

There were three minutes left until we reached my house. He turned on the radio, finally, smearing a snail trail across the radio buttons. Barry White filled the car.

With the hem of my sweater, I wiped myself off of his car. I glanced at him as I did this, but he didn't comment or look at me.

"Thanks for the uhhh, ride," I said as we pulled up to my driveway.

"Sure thing."

Can I get mad at him for pleasuring me and dismissing me? It seemed ungracious to be resentful at his cold attitude. Can I get indignant for being spit out? Wasn't that the risk I took when I offered myself up on a platter?

I tried to get mad at him. My computer blared righteous girl rock and I tripped over myself doing Tae Bo in my bedroom, trying to pump up the fury. Charlie banged on the ceiling of the first floor, telling me to shut up.

When I finally mustered up a modicum of anger, it felt fruitless rage. Insincere.

I just wasn't mad at him. I was only mad that I wasn't mad. After all, he thought I flirted with his father.

Fucking Carlisle.

So, he was within his rights to toss me out. If I were his friend, watching from the side lines, I would high-five him for what he did to me.

Angela came over during the weekend. She helped me with my Powerpoint presentation for the Spirit Day Committee. We checked on our three terrariums, filled with mushrooms clones for the Washington State Science Fair. She tried to tease me good-naturedly about my bad mood. I growled and sulked in response. She left. Good on her.

The nights broke me. In my dreams, I stole Edward's polo shirts and slept naked next to his friends. The dreamscapes were tinted silver. Shifted like mercury. Except for Edward. He was fleshed out and feverishly pink.

On Monday morning, I called Rose before school.

"Hey Rose, can you give me a ride to school? I drove the truck on a wonky spare, and it stripped the nuts. We need to take it to the shop, but it's closed-"

"Um, no. I'm getting a ride today with Emmett."

"And he can't pick me up?"

"Well, you see, he drops me off behind school so no one sees us…"

"Oh. Um, but why are you getting a ride to school with him if he's just going to drop you off where-"

"Bella, just leave it alone, _please_? Sorry. I'll see you at lunch. Love you."

For a few moments, I stood in my kitchen, gaping at my cell. The familiar, impotent rage swelled in my gut. The desire to be mad at her was fierce. But who was I kidding? She was obsessed with a guy. Maybe we could compare coping strategies.

Ten minutes later, I was getting a ride to school in the police cruiser.

"Dad, let's move."

"Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know- Somewhere with a lot of crime- where they could use a good cop."

"Why do we need to relocate?"

"Um. I just think we have it so good here. I need a place where I can get some perspective-"

"You need crime to get perspective?"

"Well- no. I mean, I just feel like I'm not thinking straight. I feel like my brain is turning to mush. I'm getting self-absorbed, setting the wrong priorities-"

"Your mom's been saying the south side of the yard could use a vegetable garden. You could plant-"

"But Dad, that's not what I'm talking about. We should go somewhere where we can make a difference. Don't you want me to help people?" I winced at my saccharine tone.

"Uh. No. You're staying spoiled until you graduate. Inoculate criminals in college."

"_But dad, if I don't move out of Forks, I'm afraid I'm going to throw my soul away over a boy."_

In math class, a paper football whizzed by my head. It skirted off my desktop and landed at Jessica's feet.

She bent down and picked it up. After unfolding it, she scanned a message, and her face lit up.

"Fuck," Edward muttered on the other side of Jasper.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Cullen?" the teacher asked, his chalk hanging in mid-air next to the chalk board.

"Only the ones on the board, Sir," Edward responded.

I whipped my head around, trying to question him with my eyes. _Was that for me?_

Something in my expression must have disgusted him. He cringed, and put his head down on his desk.

On Tuesday, I spotted Jasper in the hall. And my body _lit up. _I wanted him. I wanted him because I wanted anything to do with Edward. If I couldn't have the heroin, then bring on the methadone.

At least the Carlisle thing made sense now.

"Jasper." I tapped on his shoulder.

He turned around, cracking his gum and pointing his cell phone at my lace-lined cleavage. A crooked smile broke the impassive façade of his face.

A gesture of Edward's that had rubbed off.

"I like your shirt," he giggled. "Did you get it at Bebe-"

I snapped his cell phone shut. He popped his gum again, leaving his mouth open in a sneer. I swiped my index finger along his gum line, and showed him his wad of Wrigley's Cinnamon on the edge of my fingernail.

"Say, girl…"

He trailed off as he watched me squish the gum on the door of his locker.

"Chew with your mouth closed."

He sucked in his cheeks, his eyes narrowing indignantly. The expression read clearly _'look here, dumb bitch'_. I guess I went too far with my bitchy flirting.

He pushed past me, swinging his backpack purposefully into my side, knocking me off balance.

I muttered, "So, yoga?"

Then I started walking away, using these lock-kneed, shuffling strides down the hall. My hands were up in front of my boobs, like I was a goalie blocking against other students.

_Ugh, you are such a dumb bitch._

I peeked my over my shoulder to see if he stopped. He had, though he was playing it off by checking the bottom of his shoe.

I tried to avoid Jasper after that. But the next morning, I found Alice in front my locker.

"You marked my man."

I squirmed. _Shit. You forgot about the girlfriend, whore._

"What?" I asked. I needed to hear it again.

"You stuck your finger in his mouth," she said slowly, the way people draw out their syllables to foreigners.

_Definitely a whore._ My hand slipped into the front pocket of my backpack, grabbing the roll of Tums I kept handy. My stomach suddenly felt nauseated. I swallowed a pineapple tablet, trying to buy time before I had to open my harlot mouth.

"Yes, I did. Listen, if you want to meet me by the flagpole, that's totally fair-"

She yanked my hair, hard, jerking my face into her chest. The she laughed, light as a bell. Disturbing, but maybe she was trying to play this off to the casual observer, like we were goofing around.

"Now Bella," she said, leaning down into my ear, "Bat those lashes at Jazz again, I pierce your eyelids. Then I rip the piercings out. 'Kay?"

"Sure thing," I mumbled into her boobs, probably sputtering some yellow antacid on her shirt in the process.

She sighed, letting go of me. Her fingers ran through my hair, smoothing out the tangles she had created.

"Look, if it makes you feel any better, I totally acknowledge my skank status-"

Alice waved her hand at me. "Oh quit it. Now, what are you doing today?"

It was Spirit Day. All classes were cancelled. The student body spent the day in the gym, participating in competitions as a demonstration of school spirit. Except for the seniors, since most of us just skipped.

"Well, I was going to go home, until the end of the day when I had to-"

"Wrong. You are _teaching_," she rolled her eyes, "yoga to me. With Jasper."

"What? Alice, I don't think that's a good idea. I mean, after-"

Alice pressed her hand against my sternum. Her fingers flared out, the tips brushing against the bottom of my breasts. "Now Bell_a_, you owe me. And Jasper. Right?"

Ignoring the hand, I turned back to my locker and took the rest of my books out of my bag. The girl was just trying to unnerve me. Weird, but whatever.

"Um, sure?" I responded, slamming my locker closed.

"Great!"

We started heading down the hall toward the heavy red doors that opened to the parking lot.

"But, uh- listen, I need to be back by 2 pm for-"

"Uh huh, awesome." Alice opened the door for me, tapping her foot until I walked outside. "So look- don't be mad at Jasper for tattling on you. We have a tattle policy for whenever we get in a compromising situation. It keeps us honest."

Wait, she cared if I was mad at him for ratting on me?

As I followed her to the car, I tried to digest her comment. Why the hell would she say that? It was as though she was doing damage control for Jasper.

No matter how I viewed it, I just couldn't understand the angle of her comment.

A second Tums, mango-flavored, was popped into my mouth.

"Well… don't worry, I think your man's swell."

She smiled brightly, checking her teeth in the reflection of her window. Her upper lip curled up; she wiped a smudge of maroon lipstick off her front teeth.

"So, why are you fucking with Edward?" she asked as we got in her car.

"I don't know."

"Hmm…."

NPR filled the car. We winded down the hilltop that Forks High was situated on.

"Well, that's fun."

The car was shifted into sixth gear. She took a turn on three wheels. My forehead rested against the dashboard. Motion sickness fuzzed my vision.

"Is it?"

"Don't evade me, oh seducer of my boyfriend. Why so interested in Edward?"

"Why are you so interested in me?"

"Because, it's fun. Answer, or I take windier roads."

"Jesus. Well, I mean, we have a history-"

"Hah, you're screwed."

"What?"

"Have you ever tried to recapture the past? Nostalgia warps history. Glorifies it, romanticizes it…"

The vomit scratched up my esophagus.

"…so whenever we try to recreate history, it can never compare to our memory. It's all one big disappointment."

A set of nails scratched at my scalp.

"We're here, dear."

"Can I go home?" I bleated. "I feel really sick all the sudden."

I sounded whiny. I sounded obnoxious. I hoped I sounded like nails on the chalkboard.

"Nope. Jasper has been talking about this _nonstop._ Can't wait. Let's go."

**So how'd you like the car session, eh? I'm hoping to get an award for most sensual fanfic ever.**

**The tone's a little different this chap, I hope its cool. It can't all be pussy jokes 24/7, though don't worry- I promise the maturity level won't get that high.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. **

**Thanks wtvoc.**

**BPOV**

"I mean, it was pretty damn hot," Jasper said. He leaned against the pillows on Alice's four-poster bed.

"Really?" I asked, spinning in a rolling office chair. "You didn't seem too responsive. You even pushed me with your school bag."

Alice snickered as she sliced up limes on her computer desk.

"Until you got bitchy with the 'chew with your mouth closed' comment, I woulda given you an eight out of ten," he answered.

The past hour at Alice's house with the two of them had been interesting.

Mostly, she reigned over the hour like she was Joan Rivers, offering me unsolicited advice on a wide variety of topics. My pores were too large. I needed to do calf raises or else I would develop cankles when I got older. A-line skirts would look great with my body type.

Until a few minutes ago, Jasper had been quietly sulking; probably annoyed over the chatty direction that the events this visit had been taking.

"I'm sorry for that. I didn't mean to give you an etiquette lesson," I said. "It's just, you always see in the movie where the girl stands up to the guy, acts bitchy or whatever, and he gets all turned on because a girl has never talked back to him before."

He rolled his eyes. "I get told off all the time."

"All the time," Alice echoed, pouring Grey Goose into Dixie cups.

"Is that why chicks do it?" Jasper asked.

Alice said sarcastically, "It's not a turn-on, Baby? Calling guys out on their bullshit?"

I chuckled and Alice shot me a conspiratorial grin.

Jasper looked thoughtful. "I dunno. Maybe. But the chick better be like Mother Theresa if she's gonna tell me to mind my manners."

"What, like only a virgin has authority?" Alice snapped.

He looked startled at the leap in Aice's logic, but he just shrugged. "Pretty much." He glanced at me. "You ask me why I was turned off when you said 'chew with your mouth closed'. And it's 'cause I've seen you do nastier shit than that with your mouth. So who are you to lecture me?"

"This is bullshit. I hate feeling like I have to compete with the virgins," Alice huffed.

"Whatever," I said. "I'll be self-righteous with or without my hymen, thanks."

A door in the house creaked open and then banged shut.

"Oh, I guess my mom decided to stop by the house," Alice whispered.

"What? Will she be mad if she catches us here?" I whispered. We were supposed to be in school right now.

She nodded. "We just have to stay in here and be quiet until she leaves." She squeezed the lime juice over a cup and of vodka and cranberry juice. "You want a drink?"

"I-I shouldn't really drink right now," I stammered.

Alice smiled. "Yeah, probably not."

"So, when are we going to start the yoga thing?" I asked hurriedly.

"Oh, you really bought that?"

"I guess I did."

Alice gave me the same "dumb bitch" look that Jasper gave me when I told him to chew with his mouth closed. I extended my arm out toward the drink and she gave it to me. My hand squeezed too tightly around it and the liquid spilled over my fingers.

Alice walked to the bed and sat next to her boyfriend. She hitched her leg over Jasper's, flashing me a peek of her aquamarine underwear. His hands dug into her thigh, eliciting a melodious moan. She cupped his face and dragged her violet nails down his cheek and neck. He hummed softly, closing his eyes partially, blonde eyelashes fanning over hazel irises. All the while, they watched me. Jasper with lazy lust. Alice with pure intensity.

I took a long gulp from the drink, averting my gaze into my cup. When I came back up, they were making out. Alice was smiling through the kisses, her fingers twirling through Jasper's blonde curls.

I leaned back, my elbows hooking over the back of the chair. Bracing myself for whatever was about to happen.

Jasper squeezed Alice's crotch with one hand and pointed at me with another.

Christ, they should at least wait until I got drunk first.

She slid her body up Jasper, forcing him back against the bed. A low groan rumbled in his chest and he slid both hands up her skirt.

A few more minutes passed while I watched them wiggle together.

"Uh… guys?" I said.

Alice tore her claws down Jasper's forearm. He let out this mewl that sounded like a baby's coo.

I tried to focus on a poster of Audrey Hepburn as I felt my face flush in embarrassment.

So I've been forgotten. That's okay I guess.

Not that I wanted to join… but if they had to move on without me, there's still a sting of rejection.

And I'm locked in here with it. Lord, Alice, show some good sportsmanship.

I get out my cell and text Rose. _Help._

_Whats up? _Rose responded.

Jasper switched positions, rolling Alice underneath him. He lathered his tongue over Alice's navel.

I fucking whimpered.

_Im locked in a room with jasper/alice, watchin them round bases._

_Huh? _Rose asks.

I raised my phone to the bed and snapped a picture. The caption read: _Her moms outside. i cant leave or we'll b busted 4 skippin_

_Gross. why r u watchin?_

Indignation welled in my throat. Did she think I could play computer Solitaire while this was going on? Trying to ignore it… that seemed pathetic. I'd rather pretend like I was somehow a part of the experience, like an audience watching a performance.

Jasper tugged Alice's shirt off, revealing a matching aquamarine bra. He pinched a nipple through the fabric, causing her to buck into him. He grinned and pulled the cup down.

My hand was rubbing my collarbone raw. The situation in my panties was just mortifying.

I know Alice wanted me to watch. No one moans that's prettily unless they want to sound good for a third party.

Whatever. It's my first time drunk. I'll be obedient to Alice. She's my elder when it comes to delinquency. She knows better than me.

_This is bullshit_, Rose responded again, _i commin to get u._

_Thanks,_ I text.

"Go take a shower or something," Alice moaned.

The bathroom door was to my left. Why hadn't it occurred to me to go hide in the bathroom?

What an idiot.

Indulging in feelings of shame probably wouldn't help right now. Weren't drunks known for exaggerated emotions? Making scenes?

I slipped into the bathroom and started stripping off my clothes. Taking a shower in a stranger's house, with no change of clothes, was a little queer. Perhaps I could have just sat on the toilet, staring at Alice's lotions-

I turned on the hot water and was startled by the dizzying feeling. I've drank alcohol a couple of times, but never to a state of intoxication. My forehead rested against the tile-lined walls. The cold, hard surface felt reassuring. Like when I had the stomach flu and I took a nap on my bathroom floor. The contrast between my squishy, fevered body and the frigid surety of the ground was beautiful.

The bathroom door opened while I began pulling my jeans down.

"Bella, are you really about to take a shower?" Alice said. "Geeze, I was kidding."

"But you all were about to... get it on."

"No we weren't." She paused, cringing, and then continued in a smaller voice, "I'm sorry. We're in the kitchen, if you want to join us."

"Isn't your mom home?" I asked, starting to put my clothes back on.

"Uh, no. That was just Edward."

The indigestion hit again. I sagged against the sink, my hands reaching to cling to the porcelain edge. My fingers slipped on some toothpaste film and loose hairs.

"For such a fashionista, your bathroom's fucking filthy."

She nodded.

"So," I continued. "Did you know it wasn't your mom?"

She blew her bangs out of her face and stared straight into my shaky glare. "Uh, I figured it might have been Edward."

"Huh. Fuck yourself," I said, scratching the back of my neck and glancing away, suddenly feeling sheepish. Nothing worse than being out-stared by the nemesis.

"Bella, uh… I'm sorry. I think… I got carried away. Can we talk? Sometime when you're a little less drunk?"

"Probably not," I replied, following behind her.

Something in my gut started thrashing and jerking. Like a guitar string that kept getting snapped and was whipping against my skin. I wondered if there was an artery in there that had gone haywire. I walked hunched over, my hands wrapped protectively around my waist.

_So_ not the time for psychosomatic illness.

"What's up?" I called to the two boys on the couch.

They were watching boxing on pay-per-view. Alice layered herself over Jasper, fitting herself across him as snugly as a blanket. I sat down in the love seat across from them, bored already.

"You're pretty when I'm drunk," I blurted.

All three turned their heads towards me.

"I was talking to Edward."

"_Que_?" Edward squinted an eye at me in confusion.

"So Jasper, what score would you give that?" I asked.

"Better off acting self-righteous," Jasper responded.

"But I'm not a virgin," I huffed. "It's false advertising."

"So are push-up bras," Jasper responded.

Alice eyed my tits.

"She's golden," Edward said, still watching television. He wrapped his arms across his chest, pushing the pecs out, and leaned back into the couch as he stretched his legs out.

"How would you know? We were thirteen," I snapped.

"They were a force of nature then," he murmured.

A horn honked outside.

"Well, that's my ride. Been real." I rose and strode toward the door. The chord to an X-Box controller tangled up in my feet, causing me to stumble.

"Are you sure you can do the presentation right now?" Alice asked. "You're a little out of it."

"Wait, she really is drunk?" Edward asked as I leaned down to grab my bag.

Someone responded as my hand turned on the door knob.

"Wait," Edward said, suddenly behind me.

I turned around and was eye level with a hard shoulder. He smelled like oranges and leather. My eyes traveled up and paused on the Adam's apple. There was a faint, pear-shaped birthmark on it.

I choked up a little at seeing the faint mark. _Hey old buddy_, I told it, _didn't mean to forget about you._

"How much have you had to drink?" he asked.

"Enough."

"Just stay," he said. "Please?"

"I'll get in trouble. I have to give my presentation."

Edward winced. His hands ran through his hair and paused at the nape of his neck. "You'll get in more trouble if you fuck it up while drunk."

"Uh…"

He grabbed my bag and nodded toward the couch. "Come on."

I tentatively smiled at him. And he looked away.

The look away got me. I had felt hope when he grabbed my bag. Hoping for that moment where we locked eyes that the tunnel vision would unite us. Everything but us would fade away.

Then he just… looked away. It was trivial and stupid and it was enough.

"I don't want to," I snapped, wrenching my book bag out of his hands. "Butthole Surfer."

I had heard Jasper call him that one or twice over the years. I knew what it referred to.

Edward's face went blank.

"Good luck on your presentation," he muttered, stepping back.

I felt bad for a second. But the fucker had called me a carpet muncher for years. One night of finger play in my pants didn't change that.

I stood outside of Rose's BMW, watching Emmett straddling Rose in the driver's seat. She held up a forefinger to me, asking for one more minute. I rested my bag at her front tire and crouched down, picking up a twig and poking a dead ant hill.

"I'll see you later," Emmett said as he got out.

"Please," she yelled. "I was just scratching an itch."

"That's not the communicable kind, is it?"

I scowled. Can't they drop the banter for two seconds and say something with substance?

_Yeah, hypocrite. Whatever._

"So, do you want to talk about it?" she asked as I got in the car.

"No. I want to start repressing the memory."

I was vaguely aware that I was slurring a little.

"You're drunk."

"Inconceivable."

"You want a cigarette?" She held her pack of Camels out to me. "I know, I know. You don't smoke. But they're different when you're drunk."

"Nonsenssse," I sang, rolling down my window. "That's a load of craaapppp."

"Actually, no. You see, alcohol is a depressant, and nicotine is a stimulant-"

Rose loved exhibiting her drug knowledge. I guess she thought it was hardcore that she could bore a health class.

"-the two different chemicals create synergy, resulting in a third, new chemical- hey, what the fuck, Bella?"

I slid my body out the window, bringing myself into a seat on the sill. The wind whipped against my face. A mom driving next to us gaped at me. I smiled and gave her a thumb up.

It felt nice to do something as dumb as I felt. I guess I could draw a picture to express my stupidity, but that didn't have the whole adrenaline factor going for it.

Rose yanked on my shirt, tugging me back inside the car.

"Crap, dude. The last thing I need is one of your dad's boys catching you right now."

"Doesn't smoking cigarettes severely limit your dating options? Like, nonsmokers don't get turned off by your smoking?"

"If guys are gonna be like that, it's better to just avoid them. They're the kind that'll go up to you and say 'you know that cigarettes cause cancer?' No dipshit, I live under a rock."

"Ah, real clever."

"Eh, I'm still trying to find a better argument. They're great for keeping the weight off when you're pregnant," she joked bitterly.

Kids at school, when they saw her smoking, always asked her if she bothered quitting during the pregnancy.

"I know right? They should call it a Surgeon General's Tip instead of Surgeon General's Warning," I responded.

"That would be smart." She ashed her cigarette out the window. "It's all in how you frame it."

"Having no sex in a long time," I said. "Frame _that_ positively."

"You say dry spell, I say vaginal rejuvenation."

"Vaginal rejuvenation… sounds like it spent the day at the spa."

"There should be a tanning bed for cooch. Mine is way too pale. I can see freckles on it."

"Bullshit."

"It's true. I already a have a blonde crotch. Imagine if Emmett spotted the freckles, too? It would be so embarrassing. But they don't exactly have tanning beds for crotch roasting-"

"You have blonde pubes? That's just awesome. Tell Em there's a gold rush in your mine shaft," I drawled, letting my head drop against the car window.

"So Edward was digging for nuggets when he went down the wrong shaft?"

"Now that's just crass," I said, blushing.

"Sorry, Bella. Emmett's rubbing off on me."

She smiled and ducked her head as she said 'rubbing off on me'. Good for you.

Rose glanced at me worriedly. "Don't you have some crap to give to the school? You're kinda drunk…Are you sure you can do this?"

"Nope. Not really."

She pulled her car behind the gym, letting me out by the back door. I stumbled inside, feeling like I was wading through a pool in my drunken stupor. After pulling the CD out of my book bag, I loaded it on the school's lap top-

And then I was facing several hundred people. Then a microphone was shoved into my hands. Then I was supposed to speak.

Smelly, pungent sweat coated the front of my shirt. I could smell the alcohol, redistilled through my pores. My neck tingled from a sudden outbreak of hives.

So I canned the speech that I had memorized and forgot, opting to read off the PowerPoint.

I clicked on the screen, pulling up the "What Forks High Pride Means to Me" presentation. It was centered on our Spartan mascot.

The title slide came up.

Gerard Butler's voice from the movie 300 screamed "Prepare for glory!"

Only the accompanying picture wasn't the one I had selected from the movie.

It was of two male strippers, in Spartan theme regalia, grinding on a pole. Leather shin guards and gauntlets. Leather speedos. Body glitter. Brass helmets with fabulous red plumage on top.

The heading read "Spartans are Prepared to Outstrip the Competition!"

Techno music pulsed over the speakers. I only heard it for a couple of seconds before the laughter and whistles of the student body drowned it out. And before Mr. Banner unplugged the laptop.

In the back of the gym, there were seven foot tall windows with steel grating over the glass. Edward lay on the ledge of one of these windows, knees bent, the pale gray light washing out his face. He wasn't laughing. Or watching. He seemed to be the only one.

But I laughed. It was funny. I thought of that stupid poem by T.S. Elliot: _This is the way the world ends: Not with a bang but a whimper._ This is the how world should end. With hysterical laughter.

Fine with me. Edward took a load off of my shoulders. Anger trembled in the fake artery in my stomach. Rebounded against a kidney. Shot up my esophagus, raw and weather-beaten from all the indigestion.

Here it was. The anger I craved. Here for me to bathe in it.

I mean, this motherfucker had been neglecting me for years. His pissy demeanor, the lesbian remarks, the screwing with my friends. He was finally being direct. He was finally-

_Don't think it._

The principal tapped my shoulder, and said something about seeing me in the office.

Edward sat up on ledge and wrapped his hands around his jaw. Cracked his neck and looked my way.

_Think it._

He was finally giving me the attention I deserved.

**I know Alice looks insane in the membrane. That will be addressed. (I do like Alice). **

**Thanks for reading! LOVE YOU ALL! I print out your reviews and read them to my Robert Pattinson mannequin that I keep at my Twilight altar.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Not Mine.**

**If you want something to play with  
Go and find yourself a toy  
If you are serious  
Don't play with my heart  
It makes me furious  
But if you want me to love you  
Then baby I will**

**"Tell It Like It Is" by Aaron Neville**

_Flashback: 13 years old_

_The next day at school, Edward gave her a dirty looks all throughout class. After all, she let him bleed on her lawn._

_Distraught that her ex best-friend was being mean, Bella did something she regretted. She decided to talk to her friend Jessica._

"_Jessica," she asked during lunch. "Have you ever done anything besides kissing?"_

"_Oh yeah. I've been fingered," she said, biting the end off of a baby carrot. She started talking about how some tampons could give you an orgasm if you sat the right way._

_Bella realized she was losing her window of opportunity. "Jessica- would you ever do more that just that-"_

"_Well, that totally depends on the guy. If I had a best friend like Edward, maybe," Jessica responded. "He's a total dream boat."_

"_Yeah, total dream," Bella sighed._

"_OH MY GOD, did something happen?"_

"_Shh," Bella hissed. She leaned forward, and motioned Jessica to copy her. They placed their bag lunches on either side of their faces, creating screens of privacy for their conversation._

"_Tell me everything. Was it great?"_

"_Well…"_

_Bella's sad tone gave it away._

"_OH my god. Now." Jessica's head popped up from the screen. She snapped her fingers and gave Bella a dithering look. Jessica the Friend was gone. This was a matter of business._

"_There's nothing to say," Bella responded._

"_What do you mean? Come on, it's Edward. Couldn't have been that bad."_

_Bella's eyes met Jessica's. "Yeah, right."_

_That was all Bella said._

_By the end of the day, Edward had a banana dick. Edward had a pencil dick. Edward was a premature ejaculator._

_Some kids didn't know what these insults meant. They still said them._

_He was crushed. Edward –a very popular boy- spent the remainder of eighth grade fighting to stay in the middle of the pecking order._

_Every time someone made fun of Edward, Bella defended him. She knew Jessica had spread wild theories based on Bella's vague comments. Edward saw Bella try to defend him. Her attempts made him feel worse, more emasculated. If she tried to make pleasant conversation, he ignored her. _

_He fantasized about fucking her on the stage at eighth grade graduation. She would be on all fours, the graduation gown over her head. He would pull out, she would look back in surprise, tugging the gown aside, and he would come on her face. Then he would walk away, leaving her crumpled at the foot of the podium._

**BPOV**

_Put your game face on, put your game face on, put your game face on, _I chanted through my head.

My warding spell against the drunk.

Principal Lady was alongside of me, leading the way to her office. She wore this floral-patterned dress with a lacy collar that looked like something from _Little House on the Prairie._ I was gawking at her chest, which was outfitted with half a dozen pieces of costume jewelry broaches, all dragon flies.

I don't even know where this damn office is.

Her heels clacked against linoleum. The whirring of the janitor's floor buffer machine echoed across the hallway. The Weather Channel predicted clear skies in the teacher's lounge. Principal Lady kept sucking at her teeth.

Briefly, I considered passing out cold mid-stride. She's seen that stunt before.

Principal Lady ushered me into her wood-paneled office.

I tried focusing on all things non-intimidating.

The shelf behind her chair was lined with porcelain angels and ceramic pigs. On her desk was a stuffed tomato pincushion, filled with threaded needles.

"Sit," she directed as she sat into her chair. Then she sucked at her teeth again, pulling her nose up so that I got a view into her nostrils.

I did as she asked, perching on my clammy palms.

Her shoulder pads were askew and her slip peeked out from underneath her dress hem.

A framed piece of embroidery hung on the wall. "Cleanliness is next to godliness".

Instead of these details making me feel less intimidated, I was thoroughly creeped out.

"So," she began, grabbing a snow globe off her desk and shaking it. "Would you like to explain your little stunt?"

In the snow globe was an orange kitten, pawing frantically at the glass.

"I thought it would be funny. I didn't think it would be taken so badly."

All along the walls were pictures of her hugging her students.

Not a handshake among the photos. All _hugs_.

The principal lady looked at me quizzically. "I didn't think strippers were your style, Ms. Swan. Your humor's a bit more subtle than this."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Volturi-"

"Ms. Swan, are you sure there isn't anything else you want to tell me about this?"

Principal Lady dropped the snow globe on her desk, making the "I HEART STUDENTS" mug bounce.

"No. Of course not."

She sighed. "Okay. Well. To say that I'm disappointed is an understatement, but this is the first blip on the radar with you. Do you think you will feel the need to express your humor again?"

"No, sir- I mean, ma'am. I see that my humor is not appropriate."

Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on her desk and knitted her fingers together, resting her chin on top. Then she winked. "You are a brilliant student, and I would hate for this to compromise your education. I'm going to give you one day suspension, in-school. Monday. Understand?"

One day in-class suspension.

I should be getting kicked out probably.

The hives on my chest intensified. My body wasn't buying it.

"Uh… thank you… ma'am?"

"Are you sure there's nothing else about this situation you would like to talk about?"

I wanted to scratch the nervous rash spreading across my torso, but I doubt she wanted to hear that.

She tilted her head down and raised her blond, nearly invisible eyebrows.

"No ma'am," I croaked.

Alcohol surely dehydrated the throat. Is this why they offered water in interrogation rooms?

She smirked. "Okay Ms. Swan. You may leave. Just remember- this is a _warning_, I'd hate for anything else to happen that would compromise our friendship."

As I stood up, I could hear her sucking at her teeth again. The little slurping noises trailed me out the door.

Outside, Alice and Angela waited under the brass statue of King Leonidas.

Raising my arms above my head in a 'V', I went down on both knees.

"I. Am. Unstoppable," I say, in what I hoped was a grave-sounding voice. As this is a grave topic.

The bell rang and I scrambled to my feet before Alice and Angela felt the need to fret over me. Soon, the students would be leaving the gym and this might be considered a scene.

"Where's Rosie?" I asked the two girls.

"She wasn't here all day," Angela said, her eyes narrowed and her cheeks sucked in.

"She's with Emmett," Alice said.

"But she dropped me off…" I said, stomping my foot.

Alice shrugged. Students trickled around us, heading for the bus exit.

"Why are you here?" I asked her.

"I was worried about you…" Her eyes darted to Angela, who was still watching me and looking constipated. "Edward was gonna try to be here, but I told him it wasn't a good idea-"

"Whoa BELLA- that shit was off the chain!" someone shouted. "I've never had a better Spirit Day, evah! I feel the Spirit upon ME!"

"Does he always listen to you?" I asked, twisting a lock of my hair.

Edward would have met me outside of Principal Lady's office?

When I put the lice shampoo in his locker, he stormed right up to me, grinding his abs on me. Could I storm up to him right now? Probably not.

Alice smiled. "Not usually. But he knew I was right this time."

"Bella," Angela interrupted, "What the hell was going on? What were you doing? What happened?"

"PREPARE FOR GLORY!!" three guys hollered in tandem.

"Oooh, that wasn't my presentation. Edward did that. Volturi gave me an in-class suspension for Monday." I shrugged. "Not too bad."

My knees were about to give out and the hives haven't gone away yet, but I felt like acting cocky. They didn't need to know that I was dreading having to tell Charlie about the suspension.

"Bella!" Angela bleated. "Not too bad! Edward is such an a-hole! Embarrassing you in front of the whole school…"

"I wouldn't call it embarrassing. If anything, Bella got some cool points," Alice said.

"Cool points?" Angela squeaked, pulling a corner of her lip up in disgust. "Are you serious? Cool points make it worth it? Who even says _cool points_?"

"I did."

Tyler appeared next to me, shooting a slick grin to my friends as he slid his arm around me.

"As a member of the varsity team," he said, "I feel it's my personal responsibility to show well we out_strip_."

And the attention just… felt okay at that moment. I tried to come up with a reason to punch him. But I just couldn't find one.

As I turned my face into his clavicle, I erupted into a fit of giggles. "Oh really? 'Cause I want to a deep, penetrating piece about it for the school newspaper?"

"Awww, I love newspapers."

"You wanna help me with some undercover reporting?"

"Okay, Bella… you're killing him with the double entendres," Alice said, pulling me away. "Fly away, Tyler."

"Don't forget, Bella. Me and journalism are like peas and carrots!" Tyler yelled as he walked away.

"Oh my god… you're drunk!" Angela yelled.

Alice shook her head, her large silver hoops spanking her cheeks. "Yeah, I made her drink a little strong. I didn't realize she was such a lightweight."

"You're fricking kidding me," Angela snarled. "You got my friend drunk? And let her come to school?"

"THIS. IS. SPARTA!!!!" a girl shouted behind us.

"Boy did she!" I said. "At school? It's like the drunken Olympics. Principal Lady was all like, 'Care to explain yourself?' and I was all, 'I thought it would be fun'."

My hands gestured madly, trying to relate the excitement of the scene.

After exchanging a look, Angela and Alice flank me on either side, both grabbing an elbow.

"You should have gotten busted in the office," Angela said, leading toward the door.

"Nah-aww. 'Cuz I am ice-cold." I buffed my nails on my shirt collar.

Being ice-cold distracted me, and I tripped as they hauled me down the stairs.

Four minutes later, we were in Angela's car, pulling out of the parking lot.

We drove by my silver Volvo. I saw the bronze head, pressed against the steering wheel.

"Oh wow- there's Edward. Let's all wave to Edward." I started rolling down the window. The automatic controls pissed me off. They failed to translate one's exuberance the same way the jerky motion of manual windows did.

Besides an annoyed sigh from the driver's seat, no one made a move to stop me. They were going to let me be an ass and I appreciated the gesture.

"HEY EDWARD!" I yelled.

The horn honked for his attention. I threw Angela a grateful smile and she rolled her eyes.

Edward looked up at me quizzically. His window started to go down.

"HEY! YO! IT'S ME!" I pointed to my chest. "WHAT THE HELL IS UP, BRO?"

Aaron Neville's dulcet voice boomed over his speakers. I had to yell.

He glanced down at his lap. "Uh… are you in trouble?"

The answer I almost said: _What the hell kinda homo shit are you listening to?_

Derogative can be endearing, right?

But the music was sweet. Really sweet and plaintive. Suddenly, I realized that I wanted him to listen to it. Even if it stung imagining an Edward capable of listening to such things.

"Uh, not bad bad trouble," I responded, pulling away from the window. Tilting my head down so my hair hid my face. "Not fun trouble, either."

He was biting his nails again. "Well-"

A horn blared behind us.

"See you next round," I yelled from behind my hair. I rolled up the window.

No one said shit for the next few minutes.

Alice sat in the back seat, punctuating the silence by incessantly making that water drop noise Cameron did with his mouth in Ferris Bueller's Day Off.

Edward's sad face as he nibbled his nails lingered in front of my face like a sunspot. I needed to direct this choking emotion in my gut to someone-

"Hey- hey-" I tugged on Angela's sweater. "I got something to say you guys. You guys, I'm glad you all got me... I need my girls. I mean- not you Alice. But yeah, thank you. I needed this."

"I know." Angela tapped my hand, still clinging to her sweater.

"So, you aren't mad that I didn't allow Edward to see you?" Alice asked.

"Why? So I can suck his cock?" I sneered.

"But, Bella… He just- you just got- what's going on?"

"I don't think we're going to get a good response out of her right now," Alice said. She did the water drop thing again and kicked the back of my chair.

"Do you think he'll let me suck his cock?" I asked. "I wouldn't mind it right now."

I wanted to watch him bite his nails as he waited to come in my mouth.

"But- That's trampy, that's cheap-" Angela started.

"Bella, do you really want his first impression of your head-giving skills to be while you're drunk and he's not?" Alice asked.

"Oh god no," I said. "We need to get my stomach pumped now."

"His father works at the hospital," Alice responded. "Do you want Carlisle to do it?"

"It wouldn't be my stomach he'd pump," I mumbled.

"Bella, you make one more innuendo, and I'm just going to start slapping, okay? You're freaking Angela out."

"Thanks, but I'm fine," Angela said, hostility edging her voice. "I just don't understand. She would never show up drunk to school."

"I know- I know- you're worried, but it's cool, Angie. I'm cool. It's aalll copacetic."

She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. And shook her head, grinning, all bitter.

"What was that for, Angie?"

Silence.

"Angie?"

"Nothing. It's okay, Bella." A queer smile stretched over her face. "You're copacetic."

We pulled up to my house. Thankfully, my dad wasn't home and I could just sleep this off.

The next day, Edward didn't show up at school.

I told my parents about the stripper presentation, but I managed to convince them it was some cruel prank. Not mentioning who pulled it, of course.

Over the weekend, I hung around the house. I cried a little. And I wished Rose would come by. It was sick- I've never wanted to see Rose as much as I did that weekend.

She was my best friend and all, but this craving was disturbing.

Maybe because I couldn't have her. She was with Emmett, after all. She hadn't taken my calls since Spirit Day.

Maybe it was easier to crave and not have her than to crave and not have someone else.

I debated calling Angela, but I felt bad. I didn't know if I was only _settling_ for her. Angela was too good to settle for.

She solved my problem by calling me instead. On the phone, I blabbered awkwardly about what a good a friend she was.

"Um… are you feeling okay?" she asked.

"Uh. Yeah, no. Let's make puff pastries."

Later that afternoon, we had two dozen strawberry napoleons in the refrigerator. As we wiped down the kitchen, I listened to Angela hum the _Overture of 1812_. She had brought her espresso maker over and the warm smell of brewing coffee suffused throughout the house. I hadn't felt this at ease in weeks.

"What about that guy you liked, Connor?" I asked.

"No, I dropped that," she sighed, slapping a spider with her rag. "Overheard something about him getting weed. Stoners are boring."

"Yeah. I can see that."

She snorted.

"What?" I asked.

"Connor buys his weed from Edward."

"What?" I repeated.

"For someone who's obsessed with all things Edward, you're kinda behind."

"But… I dunno… I never paid attention to the party scene-"

"But that's Edward's scene."

"For a long time, I sorta tried to not view him in that context…"

"But now you don't care. Considering that you're getting drunk, and all."

"I guess…."

Several cabinets started slamming as Angela started looking for the Ajax cleaner. She started furiously dusting the counter with it, her face contorted in grim determination.

"I had this weird nightmare last night," she said. "The moon was rising from the wrong horizon. No one else but me noticed it… I know this sounds dumb…"

"It doesn't sound dumb. _Shush_," I said quietly.

Her body was bent over the counters. She was really scrubbing too hard.

"And when I say something, people are like 'It's just the moon, what does it matter? So it's going in the other direction. What of it?' And I try to explain that the tides will change, and that the atmosphere will be wrecked. But people _shush_ me." I laugh uncomfortably, but Angela doesn't catch it. "It was disconcerting. They were acting like I was Chicken Little."

"That's a very paranoid dream," I responded.

"It's not paranoid if there's really danger."

"Oh," I responded.

I mean, what do you say to a dream story?

The espresso got cold in the pot. Her fingertips got red from picking at the grime in between the tiles with her fingernail.

******

On Monday, as I entered the cafeteria during lunch, Alice was arguing with Jasper at the juice fountain. They were loud and people gave them a wide berth.

"Hey Bella, what's up?"

Jessica was in front me.

Alice flailed her arms in the air and stalked away, heading toward our table.

"Oh hey, Jessica," I muttered distractedly, watching as Alice met Angela and Rose's confused looks.

"What's going on? It's been awhile since we talked!" Jessica chirped.

"Yeah, long time," I responded.

"I just wanted to say- Wow. That prank you pulled on Spirit Day- hilarious! And the one you pulled on Edward? Who knew you were such a badass?"

"I knew."

She punched me on the shoulder. "Gawd, Swan. Humble much?"

I didn't meet her eyes the entire conversation. It's the same technique I employ when guys are hitting on me and I want them to go away.

"Well, you should stop by our table sometime at lunch!" she finished.

Turning on her heel, she tossed a hand over her shoulder, sending me a wave that looked like she was trying to clap with one hand.

In the lunch line, Edward was ahead of me, drumming his fingers against the sneeze guard, his green eyes studying a poster of the FDA's newly revised food pyramid.

I stepped aside for Connor and Lauren to get in front of me.

Suddenly, Lauren opted to go to the salad bar. Then Connor ran to the bathroom.

There I was, staring at his magnificent tush.

"Thanks for the suspension," I squeaked. Then I started cursing under my breath.

"No problem," he said, grabbing a plate of pudding and setting it in on his tray. Pushed his tray down the line.

He handed me the breaded chicken entree. I wanted the tuna melt, but I was more than happy to take what Edward offered.

"I figured I was doing you a favor," he continued. "You seem to be all hardcore now, showing up drunk at school-"

"Pass me the candied yams, please," I said, cutting him off.

He placed the yams on my plate.

"So you didn't have anything to do with that? You didn't want me getting kicked out for being drunk at school?" I asked.

"No. I didn't put Alice up to that. Showing up drunk to school's beneath you."

"Whatever, Edward. I remember last year when you and Emmett were doing cherry bombs at lunch."

"We don't do cherry bombs. Cherry bombs are gay."

"NOT THE POINT. You can do whatever you want, but I do something, and all of a sudden, people start freaking out! We used to do everything together. What gave you permission to go off gallivanting while I had to be the good one-"

"_Gallivanting_?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Stop holding up the line. I want my candied yams," someone yelled behind me.

Edward leaned over the line of lunch trays, shooting a death glare to the person behind me.

As I bent over, my boobs pressed into his back and I whispered, "Yes. Galli-fucking-vanting. As in you're a swashbuckling, no-account scalawag."

"I don't think swashbuckling is an insult," he said, his face almost pressed into the sneeze guard. "You might as well call me adventurous and dashing."

"Fuck you. Stay on point."

"What is your point?"

He glanced over his shoulder at me; eyes alight with curiosity and amusement.

Even though I was currently serving an in-school suspension because of the prick, I wanted to melt all over him. And then have him lick me off of his skin.

I'm such a pathetic member of my sex. If this was the 1920s suffrage movement and Edward promised sex if I didn't march with my sisters- I would totally tighten my corset and denounce the harlots.

"Dammit to hell," I muttered, taking my boobs back and stomping off.

"So, uh what are you doing here, Alice?" I asked as I sat down at my table.

"I was bored being one of the boys so I decided to come be a girl," she said cheerily, flicking her wrist at me.

"So, how was that?" Angela gestured with her ham sandwich at Edward as he strode toward his brother's table.

"Uh. I just don't know how I can be so angry and turned on at the same time."

"Anger is fear going on the offensive," Alice stated.

"You know, it's so much easier to hate you when you talk like a Dear Abby column," I mumbled, picking at my damn breaded chicken.

"See." She pointed a fork at me. "That's fear talking."

"Why the hell am I afraid?"

"Because I am wiser than you, which is intimidating-"

"With Edward," I sighed. "Why am I afraid of Edward?"

Alice rolled her eyes. "You're afraid of being with him."

Rose started laughing. Long, hooting laughter.

"Hey- wait a minute- It's not like that-"

"Oh shut up, Bella," Rose said. "Just do the damn thing. Don't act all above it. Like you're too good to want a boyfriend."

"I wasn't going to say that," I protested.

"Bella," Angela interjected. "I mean, you want what you want. Just, maybe you shouldn't act on these impulses-"

"You have better luck holding in a crap," Rose sneered, tearing a bite off of her baby carrot.

**Yeah, this chapter made me all nervous. That's why it took a while to post. T**

**The flashbacks aren't over.**

**THANK YOU WTVOC! Can't wait to see Piano Lessons (if you dont know that story.. just die)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all.**

**Sorry this took so long. Computer failure. Major thanks to my beta, withthevampsofcourse. And to the Twilighted community, which I'm eternally grateful for.**

**BPOV**

My dad kept prodding me with questions, wanting to know who orchestrated the stripper presentation prank.

"I have twenty five years of spotless public service," he would insist. "One call, and I can have this kid upstate like _that_."

Wednesday rolled around cloudless and hot, the third day of the unseasonable warm front that had settled over Forks. The sun leeched the moisture from the football field. Before school started, I threw my windbreaker on the ground under the bleachers and lied down on top. I plugged into my iPod, trying to shake off the morning torpor with some obnoxious tunes.

I've heard all the songs on this thing too much, and I couldn't afford to download anything else. I mainly used it when I wanted privacy. Being alone at school was weird. Having a book didn't minimize the weirdness, neither. So whenever I wanted to be alone before the iPod, I hid in the bathroom. This was how I met Rose. Sophomore year, I found her hiding in my bathroom. Getting morning sickness all over my toilet.

Then, I got this iPod for Christmas. Suddenly, it was okay to be seen by myself, as long as I was plugged into a device. It was emo, but it was okay.

As the third song ended on my playlist, I heard the the metal tier above me squeak. Footsteps tramped across the bleacher row. I took an ear phone out, wondering if anything worthy of eavesdropping was going down.

"I mean, I don't know what to else to tell Alice," Jasper said.

"How hard is it? She can't fuck other dudes. Simple," Edward replied.

Jackpot.

"But she fucks chicks," Jasper said, "so she figures, why not-"

"Aren't chicks enough for her?" Emmett asked. "They're probably better than most guys anyway."

"Yeah, 'cause girls know what they're working with when they're doing chicks." Edward yawned. "For us it's like being asked to solve a Rubix cube blindfolded."

"Well, Jasper? Ever get upstaged?" Emmett asked.

"We have this one girl who eats mints for two days before our little play date," Jasper responded vaguely.

"I'm not following," Edward responded.

"It makes _it_ taste like mint...apparently."

One of the guys dropped a can of orange soda. It rolled over the opening of the bleachers, drizzling liquid between my knees. I crab-walked backwards, trying to get out of the line of fire.

"Are you fucking serious? I'm putting my bitches on a mint diet right now!" Emmett said.

"You don't eat pussy." Jasper hocked a loogey, sending it on the red dirt track.

"Whatever. It would be just for the _smell_. Mint's a whole lot nicer than…." Emmett grunted. "I hate the after sex smell. Fucking hate it. Smells like ass and sweat and bad tuna and ass. The girl's all clingy and shit and I just want to run and take a shower. Light some scented candles. Not for the mood but just for some fucking relief."

The orange soda was dribbling over my windbreaker since I had forgotten to recover it. The fabric was loud and made swishy noises; moving it would probably alert the boys upstairs to my eavesdropping. The crab-walking maneuver had been loud enough.

"But wait," Edward interjected, "This thing you have going with the other chicks, it is her idea, right?"

"Sure."

Edward snorted. "_Okay_. Well, Alice suddenly wanting to fuck other guys just seems weird. Maybe she's just doing it for attention."

Momentary silence fell over the boys. A stale breeze gusted across the field, bringing the smell of hot tar from the recently patched road. Indignant herons called to each other across the weak blue sky.

"You see, this is why I'm glad I have Rose. She wouldn't do any crazy shit."

"Rose wouldn't do anything that wasn't on both knees," Jasper drawled.

"What? She's a nurturer. It's that mothering instinct."

"She gave it up for adoption, asshole," Jasper snapped.

"She almost kept it- dude, she got this baby shit for it. I found this breast pump… oh god, best discovery ever."

"Dude, you milked Rosalie?" Jasper asked. "She's even letting you milk her now?"

"No, fucker. But that thing, it milked me."

"Really?" Jasper asked. I swear, he was slightly panting.

"It's awesome, but it's weird. It _can_ get you off, but it doesn't feel like a chick."

"I'd just imagine I was getting head from some alien bitch in Star Wars," Jasper responded.

"Fucking right- oh Eddie, stop scowling. You know you aren't above the alien head."

"No," Eddie conceded. "I'm not."

I gathered my windbreaker and book bag, swishy noises be damned. Eavesdropping session was officially over. If they heard me, my problem.

As I headed toward the school building, I started popping Tums. They couldn't dissolve fast enough in my mouth. And I was giggling. The guys were amusing.

But I was also vaguely creeped out.

My steps quickened and the giggles faded into hiccoughing sniffles. I didn't know why. This nebulous sadness seized me as I slipped into my first class.

_Shit,_ _I was just giggling. Why am I sad now?_

Their conversation was private. I have no real right to be annoyed over the way they talked down about my Rose. Or Alice.

Regardless, I heard it. It could have been male posturing before his peers; downplaying the way he truly felt. Or it could have been honest.

I've heard Edward call me some awful shit. And I've heard them all discuss sex. Perhaps, I was hoping that was some mask, and every now and then they would turn to each other and say, "Gosh Willy, I really love the way her hair smells."

But maybe there is no mask.

"Do you have your paper, Ms. Swan?" the teacher asked me, interrupting my thoughts.

Several students turned around and looked at me.

The teacher stood at my side, tapping my desk top with a stack of essays.

Fuck.

"Uh , I must have it…" I stalled, turning my bright eyes on him. They were wet with another drama's tears. Hopefully, they would work on him. "Maybe it's in my truck. Can I get it at lunch and turn it in by the end of the day?"

If he gave me the day, I could skip a couple of periods and type it up in the library. This paper would be a cinch. I could rattle off three thousand words on the Russian Revolution in my sleep.

Mr. Donner flicked his thumb across the mole on his chin, staring over his spectacles at me.

"Too busy doing stripper projects?" he asked.

No.

The psychosocial dynamic of high school relationships have taken precedent over the high school curriculum.

"Um. I'm really sorry Mr. Donner, but I swear, if you just let me-"

"Save it," he said, trudging to the back of his class.

Teachers were never this brusque with me. I was their darling, their Tequila Sunrise the Teenage Wasteland. My eyes met Mr. Donner's across the classroom, pleading with him, and the balding, paunchy bastard _smirked_ at me.

What the fuck.

_Your smirking privileges were revoked with your first sun spot._

A couple of kids snickered, having witnessed the subtle exchange.

After the bell rang, I escaped into the hall. Through the swells of students, I spied Rose a couple of paces up the hall, leaning against a broken water fountain. Jessica stood in front of her, chatting animatedly. Rose's lips were drawn in a humoring smile, yet her eyes kept searching Jessica's face hungrily. Every time Jessica shifted her weight, Rose shifted her weight too. Every time Jessica pushed her hair back, Rose followed suit.

They had been friends before Rose had gotten knocked up. Afterward, Jessica distanced herself.

Seeing Rose with her again caused my chest to tighten.

I mean, Rose had avoided _me_ prior to getting knocked up, until her friends had dissociated themselves from her. What if she was switching back?

"Hey Rose. Jessica, mind if you give us a minute?" I asked the pair.

Jessica turned to me, a bright smile on her face. "Sure thing. Have you heard about Tyler's party?"

"Nope." I turned my shoulder to her, blocking her from the conversation.

"What's up, Bella?" Rose asked, annoyance edging her voice.

"Nothing, it's just been a while since we've really talked."

I paused, waiting until Jessica had removed herself from the situation.

"Yeah, well. What's up?" Rose took a strand of her hair and starting nipping at it.

I snatched the lock out of her mouth. "You look like a toddler when you do that."

"You bite your toenails."

"What's up with you and Emmett?" I pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear.

"Eh. We're cool."

She flipped her hair over her head, gathering it all on one side. Her hair curled under her lips, which were highlighted with pink gloss. Peach blush accented the apples of her cheeks. She hadn't worn make-up to school in years.

The girl was gorgeous. I knew that, but I hadn't remembered that in awhile.

"You never talk about him," I pointed out.

"There's nothing to tell. Emmett's just a thing… a nothing. Why talk about it?"

"Are you, uh, happy with it? With, uh, nothing?"

She licked her thumb and laced it over my eyebrow, straightening the loose hairs. "Don't twist my words, asshole."

"Rose, did you ever get a breast pump? Like before you knew you were giving your kid up?" I asked.

She snatched her hands away from my face and scanned the hall, checking in case anyone was listening. A corner of her hair fell on her lip, and she starting nibbling at it. "What? Huh? No. I didn't get- I didn't get shit."

"Oh."

"Why? What the fuck?" she hissed, still chewing her hair.

"Uh," I searched for a lie. "I heard if you use them on your boobs, they make them bigger."

"Whoa- dude, really?" she laughed nervously. "If I did have them, we would be having breast pump parties every Friday night."

As she walked away, she slumped forward, ducking her face under her hair. A fist came up to her cheeks, rubbing the rouge away.

Part of me wanted to run up to her. I wanted to pull her to me and say, "Sorry for mentioning the baby, sorry for ruining your beauty." But she never took apologies well.

So I thought about other things. I mulled her words over in my head.

She didn't have a breast pump. Emmett had been lying. Why?

It was inane, really. He would make it up just for a joke?

I stood in the middle of the hall, scratching my hair. It was coiling around my fingers, frizzing under my constant touch.

To my right, three freshmen listened to a sophomore's tale of shoplifting a bag of rolling tobacco and sidewalk chalk from some obscure drugstore on the side of the highway. I was one of the few who knew that drugstore has been closed for six years, as my dad headed the arson investigation after shutting it down.

To my left, a girl complained about how her Aqua Bra was leaking. She tried putting duct tape on the tear, but the liquid kept seeping through. If only her dad would buy her proper pushup Bra, (as she could only afford cheap Aqua Bra with her allowance) she wouldn't have to feel so tacky all the time.

"Hey, Bella."

Startled, I jumped back from the voice. Tyler stood next to me, watching some will. video on his phone. "We're having a party my house this weekend. Your attendance is required."

"Re-required?"

"Uh, yeah." He glanced up from his phone and winked. The diamond stud in his ear caught a twinkle from the overhead fluorescent lighting.

If I wink, it looks like my eye is twitching.

"Awesome," I lied. "I'll be there," I added. Truthfully.

* * *

Why were vintage Beastie Boys blasting throughout my house?

My father loves the eighties, but he can't tolerate the hippity. The beats rattle his mind. Mom doesn't like anything that has been released since summer of love.

I flung my backpack on the kitchen table and focused on the music, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. Surely, a burglar wouldn't put on a soundtrack while they robbed.

It seemed to be coming from the upstairs bathroom. My bathroom.

After reaching the top of the stairs, I could see through the cracked-open door. A guy was bent over a tackle box filled with tools, his rear facing me. Baggy dungarees, tied with a bungee cord, hung too low over a chiseled ass.

It was a little startling that I knew whose ass it was, even though I hadn't seen it in years. Even though it was more defined now, and had a sparse, feathery patch of hair on it.

I unplugged the boom box and let out a low whistle. "Nice plumber's crack."

"Hey, Bella," Edward responded, standing up. He wore a wife beater and I watched the muscles ripple in his shoulders as he rolled up to his full height. His neck cracked to the side. I shivered.

"What are you doing here? How did you get in here?"

"Your dad wanted me to fix the shower. He left the door unlocked for me. No one really wants to rob the sheriff, you know."

"He's been asking you forever. That shower has been screwed up for a long time."

"And now I feel like unscrewing it."

I smiled at him.

"What? Don't smile at me. Stop it," he teased.

He stepped into the shower, white knuckling a wrench and screwdriver.

"Okay. I'm going to make us some tea."

"I don't want tea," he said

"Well, we have Sunny D mix… chai tea mix… uh… Kool-Aid mix . …"

Edward unscrewed the detachable showerhead, tossing it on the bathroom rug. I gulped.

It was just ironic seeing my fantasy united with my detachable showerhead.

And then seeing him toss it away. Hopefully this is an omen.

"Don't worry about it," he said, bringing me back to the present.

"You're not thirsty?"

The clinking of tool against metal stopped for a moment. "Yeah… I guess I'm thirsty."

"Dude, just, what do you want?"

I wanted to do something for him. His obstinacy was annoying.

_Let me make something for you, Edward._

"Water's fine," he said.

_Asshole. _"Water. Right."_ That's not enough doting._

A minute later, I deposited his drink on the sink. With two wedges of lemon and a straw in it.

"Well, uh later," I said, backing into the doorway.

"You aren't going to keep me company?"

"No. I hate you."

I _was_ supposed to hate him. He tortured me for years. Any self-respecting girl would hate him.

"Please," he scoffed.

"Didn't you get me suspended?"

"Yep. And that crab shampoo shit was just amazing," he said, throwing the screw-driver on the shower floor. It skidded around the curved edges and settled at his feet.

"You've had it coming," I blurted.

"The lice shampoo? Didn't you say that that was some sort of punishment for teasing Angela?"

"It was," I responded slowly, chewing my bottom lip.

"But… You just said that I've had the prank coming. That sounds a little bigger than Angela. You sure it was just about her?"

"Uh. Yes..."

"Okay."

"Whatever. So maybe it was for me, too... I was getting my girl power on. I'm tired of being called a lesbian."

He stepped away from the dismantled shower head, scratching his Adam's apple with the screw driver. "Yeah, I can see that."

Okay. This conversation was strange. There was honesty. Sort-of, maybe, half honesties. And not enough sarcasm.

"I always wondered why you went with lesbian as an insult. I mean, you of all people would know..."

_Take the bait, Edward. Say something about our past. Our gruesome, sexy past._

"It's the easiest insult in the world for a girl. And what's there to contradict me? You haven't screwed anybody."

I sighed pointedly. He glanced over and met my glare. He rolled his eyes.

"Well, I guess you weren't screwing anybody at Forks High," he added.

"I outsourced my dick. Like you outsourced Leah."

"Those LaPush girls are something. Big boobs. And they're-" he shivered dramatically "feisty. That warrior spirit, you know?"

"Okay, white man."

"What does that mean?"

"Warrior spirit? Are you just doing her because Indian is the most exotic fare you're going to get in For-"

"Bella, stop it."

"Okay. Yeah. I'm sorry."

He continued working with the showerhead, a scowl on his face.

"Really, I am ashamed. I shouldn't have gone there."

"No, it's cool. Maybe you're right. I hope not… but what do I know?"

I rubbed my eyes furiously, trying to block out the remorseful boy in front of me.

"But I didn't attack you on Leah's behalf," I said quickly, "I used her to make you feel bad. That's terrible and catty and-"

Quiet laughter rolled from the shower. Snapping my fists off of my eyes, I saw Edward prop an elbow against the tiled siding. He laid his head on his shoulder, staring at me sideways and lightly smirking.

"What?" I snapped.

"Nothing… you just still have a bit of guilty conscience, don't you? When you were like ten and you played sex with your Barbies. You tattled on yourself to Renee."

"I can do stuff to you and not feel bad."

A half grin lit up his face. "I'm glad I'm the exception."

I turned on my heel and stormed into the kitchen, fishing my cell phone out of my pocket.

There was nothing in that conversation that ground-breaking. I was hyperventilating and clearly overreacting.

However, since that was probably all I'd get from Edward, I figured that I'd better blow this moment as out of proportion as possible. It will make for a bigger memory to treasure later, right?

Rose answered my call and I filled her in on the afternoon's angst.

"What should I do?" I asked.

"Pssh. I dunno. Suck his dick. Didn't you talk about wanting to do that?"

"I mean… this is big, this is awkward…" I insisted. "I don't know what to do or how to act around him."

"Uh… that's why God invented the blowjob. We all know how to do that."

"Dude, Rose, I'm serious."

"Okay, okay. I think you should talk about your _issues_. Sit him down on the couch, rub circles on his back, put on some acoustic Foo Fighters, or some other non-threatening, pussy dude music like that, and then let the emo rip."

"Fucking… Thanks," I growled.

"And after you're done talking, you can have a tearful hump session. All wailing and moaning. I hear that's hot."

"Alright, _thanks_." I clicked off the phone.

"What was that all about?" Edward asked.

Behind me, he sat down at the kitchen table, propping both elbows on top.

"How long have you been there?!" I demanded.

I pulled a chair out, letting it screech against the floor, and sat across the table from him.

"A moment. Since 'fucking thanks'."

"You were eavesdropping?" I asked, thrilled.

He ran his long fingers over his eye and pressed them into his cheek, bowing them at the middle knuckles. The action pulled his bottom eye lid down and I could see a pink venous sliver of his eye socket. He looked faintly ghoulish, and I giggled. A slow smile teased the corner of his mouth.

Then I realized, this was the first time we've been alone since the car ride. Which was the second time we'd been alone in five years. Well, fuck me.

We seemed to be friendly. This moment.

Were we maybe reestablishing a relationship? Despite the pranks?

I was probably the only one who felt this relationship being reestablished.

For a brief moment, I considered that maybe it was self-centered to think I was the only one who felt awkward and unsure. Maybe he was feeling it, too, and I was being a brat to think that only _I_ can feel uncomfortable right now.

If he felt uncomfortable too, then he wasn't completely callous.

But in accepting that, I would begin hoping for things that I had ceased hoping for years ago. And I couldn't afford to do that.

"So, Charlie found the clocks," I said. "You know, the Tupperware container we buried…"

"He did?" Edward asked. His eyes grew wide. They grew _warm_.

"Yeah… he was digging up part of the yard for my mom to plant a vegetable garden. I put it up in the attic."

"Can I see it?" he said.

"Yeah."

We headed up to the attic. I pulled out the Tupperware container off the shelf and set it on a stack of boxes containing Christmas decorations.

The container held mostly watch faces. Watches we got out of quarter machines at the grocery stores. One of them was Carlisle's antique pocket watch. He had fussed at Edward for a week after we buried it. Another was a Swiss army watch I had stolen from Renee. We were nine when we buried this.

There were also three pieces of jade rosary. Edward stroked the pieces tenderly, rolling the beads between his thumb and forefinger.

"This was my grandfather's," he murmured.

Edward picked out an asthma inhaler from the random debris.

"I remember this," he said, tossing it in the air and catching it. "When we buried this, you had just gotten over the asthma."

"It was my last inhaler."

Still juggling the Albuterol, he sat on my mother's old dusty Western saddle, perched atop a navy trunk.

"When it stormed really hard, you got an attack."

The inhaler flipped over his head, turning end over end. For a moment, I saw Edward. My Edward. The faithful twelve-year-old, thin-bodied and cherub-faced.

Then I remembered that his fingers have been inside of me. They have been inside of me recently, and they weren't a twelve-year-old's. They were skilled and amazing and made me make noises I didn't know I could make.

I knelt in front of him. Not meaning anything. I just wanted to kneel.

"What are you doing?" he asked, gaping down at me.

I laid my head against his knees. My fingertips ran up the denim of his jean, curving along his rounded calves. I scratched my nails across the fabric, and the little noise tickled my ears. The scent of sweat and leather and oranges surrounded my head, and I breathed it in, swallowing deeply.

His hands rested on my shoulders. Their weight was heavy, like he was trying to press me into the floor. Then one hand slid down my blouse, freeing buttons as it went. My shirt opened and the cold dankness of the attic hit my chest. His hand returned to my shoulder.

I sneaked look at his face, checking his response. He only stared at the top of my boobs.

"We can take the bra off-"

His head twitched in this curt "no" shake.

_Fine. Please, just let me get the button on his jeans undone._

This was terrifying. Every fiber of my skin wanted to stitch itself through his pores.

After I managed to undo the jeans, I slid his dick out from the front hole of his boxers. He was breathing hoarsely. I don't think he was supposed to be breathing that hard, yet.

"Edward, relax," I said, laughing softly.

"If I'm not relaxed by now, I won't be," he whispered. Sweat from his brow fell on my forehead.

"Am I doing something wrong?"

"No."

I dropped his dick and sat down on my thighs, leaning back against my arms, jutting my chin up so he could see my face.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Stop it."

His dick moved against his thigh, changing the direction it was pointing.

"Are you making it do that?" I asked.

"No. Sometimes it just does stuff on its own." He tucked it back in his boxers.

"So you don't you want me," I said calmly.

This wasn't a big deal.

My eyes stung with the threat of tears, but those stemmed from my hurt pride. Pride's not a big deal.

He stood up, the leather saddle squeaking under him, and pulled up his jeans.

"I want you," he muttered.

"What?" I asked.

The zipper went up over his boxers.

"What?" I repeated, desperation creeping into my voice. I stood up, blocking his path as he started to make his way toward the door. My hands curled around his arms, my fingernails pressing into the delicate veins of his inner wrist.

"What are you doing?" he asked, staring down at me. The deep circles under his eyes highlighted his prominent cheekbones. Shaving nicks circled his neck. His pupils were dilated with lust and his lips were very red.

"I just don't get it," I said, laughing weakly. "Why not me?"

I dropped his wrists. For a moment, they remained suspended mid-air.

"I've had you before," he responded, scratching behind his left ear and cringing.

No smugness colored his tone.

If I was a successful conquest, I guess it was a Pyrrhic victory.

"Things change," I pleaded.

I shouldn't have to argue about this. Whatever.

He shrugged, walking toward me, or rather, toward the door. "Not for everyone."

"Right," I said, leaning against a support beam, into a dead cobweb.

Christ.

Rejected while on my knees, and now I have a fucking cobweb on my hair. Despite myself, I let out this pitiful sob.

He paused, back hunched like he wanted to barrel through me, forehead bowed to my eye level. I couldn't see his eyes, but his eyebrows were pulled together. A slow exhale whistled from his nostrils. He was close enough that his breath tickled my neck, causing the hairs to stand up. Tentatively, he brushed the cobweb out of my hair.

I ran my fingers along the crown of his head, and his hand found mine, his thumb making a circuit around my knuckles. He glanced up at me and straightened to his full height, towering once again. Our hands dropped, fingers interlaced.

Then he came forward. And my sight went black because my eyes closed. And our lips met in the middle. He sucked lightly at my bottom lip. I just pushed and pulled on his mouth, testing its softness.

I really wanted to take my hand out of his and grab him, but I think I was trembling a little too hard. Before I could risk anymore sensation, he pulled back, lightly shaking my hand.

"I'll see you later," I said quickly.

I had to break the moment before he did.

"Yeah." He nodded.

Then he swept out the door, and I stayed against the beam, staring up the torn cobwebs.

**To some people, I mentioned that Edward's paper football would come up this chapter. It wound up not working, my bad. There are more flashbacks. EPOV will come up again within the next few chapters (not the next one or the one after). So, party next chapter! Don't you want to see these kids lose their inhibitions? LORD KNOWS I DO. **

**Thanks so much for reading! Yall are awesome!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

***Bella is not a virgin. She did not lose her virginity to Edward.**

***Not thrilled with this chapter. Underage drinking and drugs, believe it or not, make me sad.**

**Much love to withthevampsofcourse, who is of course the beta.**

_14 years old_

_Jasper and Edward spent the first week of their freshmen art class mocking all of the douches who had elected to take it._

"_So, why are _we _taking this class then?" Jasper asked._

_They looked each other and started laughing._

"_I guess we're douches then," Edward responded._

"_Speak for yourself," Jasper said. "I _have_ to take this class."_

_Jasper just transferred back to Forks after spending a semester with his father in Pennsylvania. His parents recently split up, and Jasper didn't adjust well to living in a new state._

_Edward was happy to have his friend back. After the tumult of eighth grade, he still felt insecure about his place amongst his peers. Edward had an over-exaggerated sense of pride and it kept him from reestablishing old social alliances. Most kids were nice to him, but that didn't redeem them in his eyes._

_This day in art class was one of the few times Edward had heard Jasper laugh since he had returned to Forks. The night Jasper came home, he tried gauging his ear with two holes at once. It became infected._

_Jasper let his ear deteriorate until his mother noticed red streaks shooting down his neck. His only explanation was that it would look badass if part of his ear was removed._

_Edward shrugged. "My dad's making me take it. He found this retarded mural I did a long time ago and didn't like it. And he thinks I should… express myself appropriately."  
_

"_Yeah. It was something like that with me. I used to draw at my dad's house. And they found some sketches and overreacted. I dunno. It was weird. People are just too sensitive."_

_A pack of boys at the next table were talking about the "homos" of freshmen class. They spoke in loud tones, and they were trying to get Edward's attention._

"_What was it?" Edward asked, not noticing the group at the next table. " Like a dirty picture or something?"_

"_No. It was me. Melting."_

_Edward scrunched his eyebrows together in puzzlement._

_The blonde inhaled deeply and rubbed his eyes. "And my family was melting with me. My dad called my mom. They took it to mean all these crazy things. And since they don't like what I draw, it's sorta trippin' me out that they would put me in art class-"_

"_AND EDWARD IS GAYER THAN RICHARD SIMMONS," Felix nearly yelled from the next table._

_Edward straightened slightly, but said nothing. The teacher was cleaning paint brushes in the bathroom sink, and was absent for this spectacle._

_The jokes had evolved since eighth grade. People rarely made fun of him, but when they did, it never had anything to do with the original humiliation. That had been mostly forgotten._

_If Edward had talked back once to his provokers, they may have stopped. His condescending silence infuriated and fueled them. So they kept on._

"_Shut up, Felix," a female voice snapped from the back of the class. "No one cares about your sex fantasies."_

_Edward turned around and saw a strawberry blonde in the last row. She twirled a fat paint brush between her fingers and had a teal smudge on her eyelid. They smiled at each other and Edward's heart punched his breast bone._

"_That's Tanya," Jasper explained._

"_I know who that is," Edward hissed._

"_Sorry… You don't talk to anyone except me or Emmett. That's why everyone thinks you're a tool."_

"_What?"_

"What_?" Jasper mocked. "You walk around with a stick up your ass all the time. That's what."_

_Agitated, Edward slashed a few mindless strokes across his canvas, completely obliterating the scene. The boys worked in silence for a few moments until Edward dropped his paintbrush._

"_Do I really seem like a tool?" he asked._

"_Dude, forget I said anything."_

_Edward turned around and glanced at Tanya. She was laughing with her friends. Instantly, she felt his eyes on her. Her head turned and again they smiled at each other._

"_Tanya doesn't think I'm a tool," Edward responded._

"_Maybe she can help you with that stick up your ass."_

_This was one of the last times someone teased Edward. A couple of weeks later, Edward started calling Bella a lesbian._

**BPOV**

When Rose talked about the parties she used to attend, she said she never brought a purse with her.

"I always lost track of my purse anyway. Or some asshead would look through it. So eventually I only brought my cell phone and lip gloss," she told me. "Don't ever try reapplying make up when you're loaded; you'll end up looking like a desperate clown whore."

"What about your keys? Your money? Your driver's license?" I would ask.

"Keys for what? I'm not going home after. I'm not driving loaded. And money?" She flicked her hand. "Let the boys pay."

I've only been to one party before. Angela had been with me. She'd been making herself scarce these days. I didn't even bother to ask her this go-round.

I wondered if I should mention the party to Rose. Agonized over whether I should tell her. Would it seem callous to say I was invited? If she was still on the outs of high school, it might just be rubbing it in her face.

If she was talking to Jessica, maybe she would be here on her own.

In the end, I elected just to leave it alone and not tell her. Come what may, right?

So on Friday night, I found myself alone, across the street from the party, in the shadows of two elms.

No one else came alone. My classmates moved in gaggles, trekking through the neighbors' lawns, hopping over flowerbeds, drifting out into the street, littering the sidewalk with empty cans of energy drink.

This was more terrifying than walking into Principal Lady's office while drunk.

_Put your game face on, put your game face on, put your game-_

Then I spotted him coming up the sidewalk, and the light of a fake gas lamp caught the brassy highlights of his hair.

Jasper and Alice and two other guys flanked Edward. Some girls trailed them, cell phones at their ears. Edward was laughing.

For the past few days, I've wondered what went on between him and me in the attic. I've almost drawn storyboards of the sequence of events, hoping to get a better reading on the situation.

How can someone be so obsessed, yet know so little?

I tossed my hair the way I see Rose do when she's trying to rally her pride and strode across the street.

When I hit Tyler's front lawn, someone shouted, "Yo Bella! Sparta! Prepare for Glory!"

I wasn't prepared to talk to anyone, but I couldn't just give someone the cold shoulder at a party…. Could I?

My hand dove in my pocket and I held my cell phone to my ear. As I walked in the front door, I mumbled random words and pretended to hold a conversation with no one on the line.

The front room was spacious and open, and obviously designed for entertaining. Newspapers covered a pool table, and plastic cups were set up in the shapes of triangles. Clusters of boys stood on either side, facing off in a game of beer pong. On the end of the room, a group gathered around a four-foot-tall hookah.

Jasper lay sprawled across a leather chaise lounge, taking up enough room for three people. He puffed from one of the hookah hoses and blew smoke rings out the side of his mouth. A dark-eyed girl with chocolate skin stood behind the sofa, braiding cornrows through his hair.

I waved two fingers at him. "What's up, Jasper?"

He thrust his chin toward me. "Hey Bell-"

The girl behind him slapped his cheek. "Quit moving."

I spotted Alice at the back of the room with a group of other seniors. She waved me over and everyone greeted me warmly. They never spoke to me at school, and I wondered if they would talk to me come Monday.

Not that it mattered. I soon discovered I was unable to follow the conversation, and I was incapable of making an impression on them tonight.

Snippets of their conversation whirled around me. Every now and then, a comment rose above the din of the party and I paid attention to a thread of the discussion.

"…Oh my god Tyler! You have an indoor Jacuzzi? You should have told me… I would have brought my bathing suit…"

"… someone looked up Mr. Berty's records at an old school. Apparently he was discharged after exposing himself to a minor…"

"… don't worry Jessica, I'm sure you can borrow one of my sister's bathing suits. It might be too small…"

"… and then apparently Mr. Berty showed the girl a skinned cat, and said he would do that to her if she ever told anyone…"

Alice interrupted. "Do you really think the high school wouldn't find that shit out if a kid could access these records?"

"It could happen," Tyler said.

"Bullshit," Alice coughed into the back of her hand.

"What, do you have a thing for Mr. Berty or something?" Tyler asked.

She poked him in the nose, leaving a half moon finger nail imprint on the tip. "Hit the nail on the head."

After glancing around at varying looks of disapproval amongst the group, I gathered that Alice's brazenness wasn't laudable behavior. The girls glared, slurping loudly at their drinks. Jessica giggled behind the back of her hand. The guys rolled their eyes and checked out her rack.

Everyone seemed to tolerate her and to include her. But not to particularly enjoy her.

I grabbed Alice's wrist and jerked my head toward a table set up with liquors. She nodded once and sashayed toward the make-shift bar, raising her arm and rotating her wrist in a flippant wave.

As I turned to leave, this guy with a broken nose and a long side part in his black hair stepped forward. He introduced himself as Felix.

"You Bella, right?" he asked.

"Me Bella, yes."

"You pulled the crab prank on Cullen right?"

"Um. Yeah."

He raised his fist to bump me off. "Awesome. That shit was incredible! I fucking hate Cullen. He's such a douchebag."

I couldn't bump him off over hating Cullen.

I couldn't not bump him off, either.

Donning my best airhead smile, I slapped his knuckles and giggled.

He smiled and rolled his eyes.

"So why did you do it?" a girl snarled. I recognized the voice as Lauren's.

The girls were always more protective over Edward.

"Do I need to have a reason to get back at an asshole?"

Felix shook his head "no" emphatically. I turned away and joined Alice at the drink table.

Thirty minutes later, we were still hovering around the booze.

For a while there, I almost pegged Alice as a wallflower masquerading as a bisexual bimbo, and that we were hanging out by the alcohol because it was the best people-watching spot. The thought was endearing. I was about to have a sloppy heart-to-heart with her.

Then, I realized that Alice was just trying to get drunk. And that I was dizzying myself keeping up with her.

"So why is no one here dancing?" I asked her.

"Huh?" she asked.

"I mean, on MTV and movies, you always seeing kids at parties dancing… grinding…." I flailed my arms. "You know."

"Movie sets don't have parents. Tyler needs to clean this place up afterward, and I'm sure a bunch of drunks knocking over the pottery won't help."

"So everyone here just stands around?"

"Not everyone is just standing around. A lot of people are waiting for someone to go to the bathroom so they can jack their seat. Just sit on someone's lap and make out with them. It's easy."

I snorted "Yeah, right."

"Don't be stupid. You're hot. Even I almost did you."

Were we really going to discuss the awkward afternoon I spent at her house with Jasper?

"But you didn't."

"Eh. Well. Changed my mind."

Like she decided to get the ankle socks instead of the tube socks.

"So why did you do it? You kept me in the room with you while you went at it… with Jasper…"

She shrugged. "I wanted to make out with my boyfriend. Was it really that traumatic?"

Her question startled me. Was the experience that traumatic? Was I being overly dramatic by feeling weird about the awkward memory?

Suddenly I felt ashamed for even bringing it up.

"But you lied," I pressed. "You knew it might have been Edward coming in the house. But you said it was your mom, so I had to stay in the room and watch while that was going on. Do you know how awkward that was-"

Her palm slid under the bottom of my cup. She cut me off by pressing the drink to my lips.

"Stop that," I snapped.

"Look, I wanted you to join us. Then I changed my mind. Did you really want to be in a threesome?"

"Well- no. But-"

She laughed. "Oh lord. This is so not the right time to talk about this. Party? Not a good place."

"I think I need to go to the bathroom," I said. My voice sounded weird. Soft and tinny and choked up.

God, I better not be a sad drunk.

"I'll come with-"

"No, that's okay. I'll catch up with you later."

My head stayed down as I weaved through the house. My friends were probably at home in their pajamas. I wondered if Rose was fucking with her fantasy football teams right now. I wondered if Angela was working on her stop animation porn.

_You're definitely a sad drunk._

At the first door, I stopped and turned the handle. I needed to be solitude and self pity.

I walked into a large pantry. It was filled with white light. The door shut behind me. Edward stood in the middle, his head rested against the spice rack.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked, not looking up.

He dipped his fingers into a cereal box. He forked out a dehydrated strawberry and popped it into his mouth.

"Are you eating Tyler's cereal?"

"No. I'm just eating the strawberries out of it." His head was tilted slightly up and to the side. The bulb for the pantry swung directly above him, and a swath of brightness lit up his brow.

After closing up the cereal box, he placed it on the shelf and looked at me. There was a mound of strawberries in his cupped hand.

"Why are you in the pantry?" I asked.

"This is my secret spot. Tyler knows I come in here. He thinks it's a stupid stoner thing."

A couple moments passed while I watched him eat strawberries.

"The music's not so loud in here," I mumbled.

"Yes. And I like the way this room smells. Like oil." Without looking, he found a bottle of olive oil on a shelf by his elbow. He held it up for me to see; it had rosemary hips sunk at the bottom. Grease coated the lid, making his finger tips slick. "Mrs. Crowley gets these mailed from Greece. I've been coming in here since I was a sophomore."

"It's like an escape pod."

"Uh. Yes. I guess so."

A feeling of tenderness overcame me.

_Edward hides in pantries at parties._

All the alcohol swarmed my head, and I felt my face flush. The light became louder. The tight space of the pantry suddenly stifling.

I had seen this quiet Edward before. In the attic. I had kneeled before him. And that moment was too embarrassing.

"I was actually looking for the bathroom. I should be doing that. Finding the bathroom."

"OK." His tongue peeked between his lips, and he slid another strawberry into his mouth.

When I exited the pantry, I found a clusterfuck of people in the kitchen. I edged along the perimeter of the crowd, finding sliding glass doors that opened onto the back yard.

Really, sometimes the night air is a miracle.

I stood in the backyard, watching random groups puffing cigarettes across the lawn. For a moment, I considered faking another phone call so I didn't look aimless. Or asking to bum a cigarette despite the fact I didn't smoke. Or talking to someone even though I just wanted a moment to collect myself.

I drifted toward a pond with underwater lighting. Large goldfish with black stripes darted underneath the lily pads. An arroyo stone path led from the pond to a Japanese rock garden. I knelt beside to the water and traced my finger across the surface.

I thanked the fish for being at the party for me.

Footsteps approached from my right and stopped a foot away.

"So, my buddy thinks that having a black eye is a huge turn-off for chicks," the guy said to me "I'm trying to convince him that some chicks think it's hot. What do you say?"

I stood up, wiping my wet hands against my jeans.

The guy was tall and blonde. His eyes were spaced too close together, but other than that, he seemed generically handsome enough. I didn't recognize him, so I doubted that he was from the area.

"I guess it depends on the guy," I responded. "If he looks like a wimp, like he obviously couldn't hold his own in a fight, then the black eye would look pathetic. But if he looks built, then a shiner could be sexy."

He smiled, the corner of his eye twitching. "Awesome, I'll be sure to tell him that."

"What did he get a black eye for, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh, he didn't get one yet. He's about to, though," he said, still blinking rapidly.

"Well, that sucks for him."

My gaze wandered toward the pond. I found an albino fish lurking by a tiny water fall. He peeked out from under a rock ledge and then dove back into the shadows.

A stiff hand shoved into mine and yanked at it.

"My name's James by the way."

"Well James, I need to get back inside and get a refill."

"Why don't you try this?" the blinker responded.

He held a plastic gas station cup to me. It was filled with a maroon drink that reeked of medicine.

"You slipped rufies in this, didn't you?" I asked, taking the cup and sniffing it.

"It's cough syrup with codeine, in cherry sprite. Just something that the doctor would prescribe you…."

"Huh? Cough syrup's the new thing now?"

I took a gulp and cringed at the potent chemical flavor.

James tapped the cup. "The drink's called _lean_."

"Yeah, we're not doing this." Startled by the third voice, I jumped back. I bounced against a rigid chest and turned my head to locate its source. Edward.

His arm roped under my breasts, and I felt my breath catch. Edward captured my cup and tipped the awful drink out on the lawn.

"What the fuck?" James snapped.

Edward took his arm away and side-stepped me, blocking James from my sight. "I wouldn't fuck with her. She's the sheriff's daughter."

"What the hell, Edward?" I asked.

I didn't want Blinker. But Edward was speaking about me like I was a social parasite.

"This chick Bella? Got plastered at my friend Lauren's party two years ago. Her dad picked her up and then arrested three dudes."

He was lying to humiliate me. I yanked at his sweater, forcing him to turn and face me.

"Why are you doing this?! I don't know what you are talking about-"

"That's cause you blacked it out."

"What's wrong with you?"

A reckless grin spread across his face.

I glanced over his shoulder to make my case to James. But he had left.

"What the hell was that?!" I yelled, punching him in the shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I want him scared of you. That guy sucks. And you shouldn't be drinking strange shit."

"Geez Edward, I think you're overreacting."

He took his phone out and poked me in the belly with it. "I think you should call your dad and tell him you won't be home tonight."

"What?"

"You shouldn't go home loaded. Tell him you are spending the night out."

This was the second time in the past month that Edward had prevented me from going home intoxicated. "You have no faith in me."

"No. I don't."

I took my own phone out, mumbling, "I think he'd get suspicious if I call from your phone…"

As I spoke to my dad, I saw a junior named Demetri approach us. He handed Edward a bill, explaining it was for the weed Edward had sold earlier in the evening.

After a moment of examining the money, Edward took a lighter out of his pocket and held a flame next to the hundred dollar bill. The light revealed that it was stained with blood at one end. Edward glanced up at Demetri, disgust evident on his face.

"Have you ever seen _Planet Earth_, Demetri?" Edward quietly asked.

"The National Geographic documentary?"

"Yeah. It's fucking epic. They had this one segment where this pod of killer whales killed a baby blue whale… I almost bawled… but anyway… I'm taking this money and-" Edward held the bill in front of Demetri's nose. "I'm going to buy the DVD box set with it."

"Fucking A dude." Demetri wiped his nose with the sleeve of his sweater shirt and glanced around. He was wide-eyed and bouncy, reminding me of a meercat.

"No. Not fucking A. 'Cause when I walk into a store and pay with this, what will the cashier think about me?"

"That you do coke?"

"Right. And when I'm buying _Planet Earth_, I don't want to pay with a bill that you used to snort coke with and bled all over. You know?"

"Well… I can pay without that hundred… but I'll have to give you twenty dollars in singles… and maybe some quarters actually..."

Edward flicked the bill at Demetri's forehead. "Man, get out of here."

"So…. Pot selling… well that's awesome," I chided once the junior left.

Edward shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned forward, ducking his head down. "Uh. Yeah. But. It's only weed. And you've smoked it."

I began gathering my hair off my neck. "I guess I'm a hypocrite then," I sighed.

My fingers fumbled with the elastic band around my wrist as I held the pony tail up. Edward trained his gaze on the skin along my shirt collar. His eyes traced upward along my neck, causing the hairs there to stand.

He moved behind me and tugged at the elastic band.

"Let me help you with that," he said.

My hands didn't drop. As he slowly eased my hair into the pony tail holder, my arms remained suspended on either side of my head. My wrists hummed with heat, knowing that he was this close and that he was touching me. I closed my eyes and leaned into the feel of his light pulls at my hair.

"Hey dude, can I buy a bag off of you?"

Connor appeared beside us, tapping Edward's shoulder.

"Fuck," Edward muttered. "Yeah. Sure man."

He turned and paid attention to his customer.

"Yeah, so…" I said, shifting from foot to foot. "I'm going to find the bathroom."

Edward nodded distractedly, searching his pockets for contraband.

A bathroom is the female "base" in the party war zone. I needed to regroup before I had a panic attack in front of all of my nearest and dearest peers.

However, wandering Tyler's house while drunk was like exploring an Escher-like maze. That lacked indoor plumbing.

If I asked a person where the bathroom was, they pointed to a broom closet or a bedroom hot-boxed with weed smoke. I found one bathroom, but the toilet was overflowing with particulars that I didn't want to investigate.

Poor Tyler.

I would be sure to tell about that problem. As soon as I found another bathroom.

So inevitably, I began opening random doors.

Which is how I came upon Alice again.

I opened the door to a guest bedroom on the third floor, and found her rolling over Jessica. They were both topless and twisted in a lavender sheet.

Why was the sheet between them? That has to be awkward.

Jasper sat at the head of the bed, fully clothed, watching, his hand tucked between his legs.

And I just couldn't turn away.

The details were so fascinating and they fastened me to the doorway. Jessica had pancake tits. Alice had this weird tattoo of a _ladder_ on her shoulder blade. Jessica didn't have pigment in the moles on her belly so they were red instead of brown. So I just stayed there, waiting for someone to catch me.

**You definitely rock.**


	10. Chapter 10

_**PLEASE FUCKING NOTE OR YOU WILL BE LOST**_**. This EPOV chapter (with the exception of the flashback of course) takes place AFTER Bella smokes up in Carlisle's house. And BEFORE Edward pranks Bella in the gym. That's about a four day window. An explanation of why I'm backtracking will come after the chapter.**

**Huge thanks to jfly and acireamos and withthevampsofcourse who were wicked –yes, wicked- supportive during my hiatus. Withthevamps is the mastah betah.**

**Meyer's universe. Not mine.**

_12 years old_

"_Did you catch Smallville?" Bella asked._

"_That show's weird," Edward responded. "I don't like that Clark Kent and Lex Luthor are friends."_

"_They're only friends before Lex turns evil."_

"_You just don't _turn _evil. There are signs. Clark had to have seen them in Lex."_

"_Of course he sees the signs."_

"_How can you be friends with someone you know is screwed up?"_

"_I dunno."_

_Bella was thinking of an incident that had occurred the previous weekend at her dad's Fourth of July barbecue. Her younger cousin –who was nine- had been following Jasper and Edward around, yammering about ice hockey. The older boys had party poppers and kept shooting them at her cousin. He ran to her crying, one eye red and puffy from a party favor that exploded too close to his face. Rainbow streamers littered his hair, and he smelled like gun smoke._

"_Do you think we could ever be enemies?" Edward asked._

_She shrugged. She wondered it herself sometimes. _

"_I hope if we are enemies, it'll be epic like Lex and Superman," he joked. "Who would be Lex?"_

_She didn't answer. Naturally, she assumed he would be the Lex. No one assumed they would be the bad guy. _

"_Well, if I'm Lex, I hope you come after me," he joked._

_She rolled her eyes. "'K. If you get a big bomb in your locker- you'll know why."_

EPOV

"Who the fuck put milk in here?"

Emmett leaned over my shoulder and looked into my locker. A carton of expired milk sat on top of my books. The smell of spoiled ass filled my nostrils.

The date on the label read that it was six months old. Someone hoarded revenge milk for six months. "Who the fuck-"

Three sophomore girls giggled guiltily to my left. I turned to- to do _something_- but two of them were wearing braces. One chaired Key Club. Another was in Adaptive P.E. because of spina bifida. They were lambs.

"Heffers," I nodded to them.

Bad milk stench flooded the hallway. Emmett pulled the collar of his shirt over his nose. "Hey girls-" He turned to the sophomore chicks. "We like our milk _fresh. _From the source." He made squeezing motions over his chest.

The trio winked and laughed and ran away. Pinching a corner of the carton with my forefinger and thumb, I picked it up and tossed it into the trashcan.

Emmett was holding an uncapped stick of deodorant under his nose to conceal the smell. He was dramatic. Got it from our mom.

"Bella copy-cats," he said. "Nice."

"Dude."

"You should really start locking your locker."

"_Dude_."

He held up his hands, his shirt still pulled over his nose. "Just don't start obsessing about them now, too. You've been moody as a bitch since that locker shit happened."

"Don't worry. I've got something. For tomorrow- for Spirit Day."

"Naw. It's like, too intense and shit. Just ignore her."

"But you wanted me to fuck Bella-"

"Oh my fuck, they are starting up the golf club again." Emmett pointed to a neon yellow poster on the wall. "_Dude, _we have to do that. Dad said they used to get off school to go to competitions. We can toke up on the greens, during _school _hours, ride golf carts…"

* * *

"Edward, we're doing something silly," my mom informed me later that day. She smiled coyly. She was wearing the denim shorts that she only wears when she's doing Habitat for Humanity shit or varnishing the floors.

I sighed. "Let me get Emmett, then. He's your silly son."

She rolled her eyes and flicked her wrist at me. "Come on, little hard ass. We're bonding. I need to see if you have any tattoos or piercings…"

"Only gay dudes get piercings."

"Your father got a piercing in college."

"_Gay._"

"In his tongue."

"_Really gay._"

She held her hands up as she stepped out onto the back patio. Emmett got that gesture from her. "I think it's very conducive to hetero activity."

"Ew."

"Well don't attack your father's masculinity. It insults my taste."

"Hmm."

Rectangles of wood and cans of paint were neatly lined along the back end of the picnic table. Two hammers and two boxes of nails and two plastic cups full of water guarded both ends, and a set of horse hair brushes fanned out in a half circle across the center of the table.

"We're building bird houses," she explained. "I'm showing my youth group how to make them on Saturday, but I need to bring some examples."

I traced my finger over the wood. It had been sanded down until the grains were extra fine. Too fine. A gross tickle titillated the pads of my fingers as they ran across the board, making me cringe. "'K. Let's do it." I wrapped an arm around her neck and pulled her into my chest. "Maw maw."

She grimaced when I called her that. She _hated_ that nickname. The sunlight hit the caramel highlights in her hair and a blush fired in her cheeks. I laughed at her.

The next hour was a little torturous. My poor mother knew _nothing_ about carpentry. She smashed her thumb three times under the hammer, eventually flicking the bloody acrylic thumb nail over the side railing and into the ferns below.

"You're just gonna get blood on them and terrify your kids."

She exhaled in agitation. "My children are fine. Thank you." Her hammer came down on her pinky.

"Hell- Maw-" I grabbed her finger. "Why don't you let me handle this?"

"I hate it when you call me Maw Maw. It's annoying as shit. I'm not a damn grandmother."

Her beeper went off on her hip. It was the third time this hour.

"Why do you insist on having the beeper?" I rubbed the corner of my eye with the head of a nail. "It's anachronistic."

I read that word today. I've been repeating it, trying to commit to memory. It's a hard word to work into conversation.

"If I had a cell phone, I would never have a moment's peace." She looked at the pager and slapped a palm against her cheek. "_Oh. _Oh _lord._" Her hand slid down her chin and rested against her throat. "Edward, _look_. They _need_ me." She held the pager for me to look at, but I was staring at the angry red mark she inflicted on her cheek. Like, it was _really _red. People don't usually leave marks when they slap themselves during idle gestures. But she does. She can be dramatic.

Dramatic women. Are silly.

And like that, I was thinking of Bella. Doing dramatic Bella shit.

"Go… do your thing, Mom. I got this." I waved the pager out of my face. I didn't care who required my mom's attention.

Esme told me good-bye. I closed my eyes as she kissed my cheek.

After she left, I just stared at the half-finished bird houses and scratched my head. When Mom was here, I had the desire to assist and to give to charity by helping the children and to revel in the _simpler pleasures _by building a freaking bird house. Then she left, and I was left staring at a half-done gay bird house.

Can't I just help the children?

Then I noticed that there was no wooden dowels to make bird perches. I rubbed my brow and frowned. How the hell do you forget the bird perch? Without the bird perch, it's just a little house. Nothing distinguishes it for birds. It might as well be a doll house.

I have no idea why I was so annoyed- but it was really thoughtless of my mom.

* * *

When her sister got cancer, Mom donated her bone marrow for a transplant. When her nephew's kidneys failed, she offered him one of hers. Her offer was denied. But _still._

Most people would feel strained by having such a diseased family. Mom felt blessed.

"If someone's family must endure these calamities," she would say, "let it be mine. Because I can handle it."

She would cut the plastic on the soda six-packs so dolphins don't smother when trash gets dumped in the oceans. Donated her blood plasma (for free) until it ruined her veins. After a protest rally in college, she made the cover of _Time_ magazine for charging a riot control officer. She got her fucking nose broken. _But it was the right thing to do_.

She's that woman. Her goodness was as boundless as the ocean.

Some men look at the ocean and feel inspired by its vastness. Others feel minimal in comparison.

Dad would never admit to feeling the latter. What good man would? _Hi, I really don't like that my lovely wife is better than me. _And Dad was a good man. He was a doctor at an ER. One time, a kid was rushed into the hospital; his neck crushed in a train accident. Orthopedic decapitation- only his spinal chord was still attached. Esteban Jorge Ramirez attends Chesterfield Boarding School now, a faint white scar around his neck. He paints stitches over it at Halloween, pretending to be Frankenstein. All ER doctors should be canonized.

My Dad resented his wife for her magnanimous spirit. What kind of asshole does that make him? What could he do? He was married to his belittler. _I promise to keep being belittled in sickness and in health, forever and ever, until death do we part._

When I was five, mom adopted a girl from Nepal. All I remember were the strange sounds of alien language coming from her mouth. I thought she was an instrument- not a person. She came with a parasite that killed her in three months. Dad thought it was the flu. After she died, Esme removed Carlisle's medical from the front foyer and stored them in basement.

Dad bought an air hockey table and put it in the cellar with his degrees. He pinches my weed and goes down there, playing air hockey and online poker for hours. Mom says he used to hustle guys at poker in college. That's what he does, every night while Mom's saving all the kittens in the trees.

Sometimes, I wish someone close to me would die.

I feel like mourning something, but there's nothing to mourn. I want everyone to sit in a parlor that I don't have, nibbling on hors d'oeuvres we can't taste, and be sad with me. It would get boring and emotionally exhausting. I would shoot my jaw off. But I still crave it.

Anyway, when I think of the departed being mourned over in this hypothetical parlor, I always picture it being Dad. Since I was fourteen, I always pictured Dad as the dead man.

He taught me baseball. How to measure the distance between stars using parallax. Before he hurt his back, we went running cross country.

He was a good man.

And he was the dead man.

* * *

Mom came home that night with Chelsea, one of the girls from her youth groups. During half time at my football games, Chelsea spun flips over the heads of her cheer mates.

The girl was sorta really- what? Thin? Skinny?

_Willowy,_ maybe_._ Like if someone laced a string from her nose to her toes, you could play a violin using her as the bow.

I love skinny girls. But skinny isn't _willowy._

Chelsea came here for math help, but as a child Chelsea had suffered from mild dyslexia. Esme began to tutor her weekly for reading. Dyslexia can mess with your eyes. After my Mom's sessions, her pupils always looked constricted and engulfed in pale blue irises.

"Hi, Edward," she greeted me. A smile warmed her pale face, and she clutched a book bound in dark red clothette to her tits.

Behind her back Emmett was scowling on the couch, his feet propped on the coffee table. He really dug her. She never seemed to care.

"Hey …Chelsea… what?" She was pretty, but she was staring a little too intensely at me. "What's up?"

She smiled wide. "I just wanted to thank you all for having me at your house."

"Oh. It's no problem. It's my mom-"

"She's a wonderful woman."

"Yep."

"Thanks for letting me borrow her." Chelsea winked.

"You can keep her," Emmett hollered, his mouth full of carrot sticks.

She gave a long-suffering sigh and then grinned again. "Oh, Emmett. Why don't you come to one of our youth groups? It's really amazing to see your mom work with-"

"So I heard the school is about to compete in the cheerleading regionals," I said, gently grabbing a hold of her elbow and steering her toward the couch.

For some reason, I just didn't like to hear my mom's projects talk about her. Something inside of me turned ugly when they acted like they _knew_ her.

I listened to Chelsea talk about cheerleading stuff- and it wasn't boring. She talked about how one girl on the cheer squad went Tanya Harding on a talented freshmen and broke her ankle. Chelsea wasn't dumb. Over her shoulder, Emmett mouthed "make" and "pass" while pantomiming throwing a football. I should. No one in Forks had been giving me _any_ since Bella had bombed my locker.

But Chelsea wrote an article for the school newspaper called _The Lure of Virginity._ She talked about the promotion of teenage abstinence in right wing America. In a culture as sexually desensitized as ours, "no sex" was the most tantalizing thing out there. "There is no aphrodisiac like innocence" was one of her quotes.

It was not well received by the faculty. All the guys wanted to fuck her raw. No one knows if it's been accomplished.

I pictured Chelsea running pantsless into the woods. Tripping over logs and skinning her chin in the dark. I should think about _fucking_, not _that. _Fucking Bella.

The conversation slowed to a crawl. Eventually she opened her book and started gazing at a page, and I watched T.V. with Emmett.

I heard sniffling a few minutes later. A funny commercial with a drunken penguin was playing on the television.

Her head was tilted over the book, spilling hair the color of ash across the pages. Some hair was pulled behind her ears which were long, narrow, tapered at the top, elfin. Another sniff followed. Girl was crying.

"Uh… what's up Chelsea?"

She glanced up at me, cringing and shaking her head. "You wouldn't understand."

The header on the page said _Ancient Greek Folklore: Animals bleh bleh…_ Chelsea was completely right, but I didn't appreciate her assumption. "Try me."

"In Greece, they had swans that never made noise." Sniff_. _"Except for when they died." Sniff, _sob._ "Then they had made this beautiful song. Called 'the Swan song'." _Sob, sob._

"Sure. Uh- Schubert, the composer- had a posthumous collection called _Schwanengesang_… uh, which means 'Swan Song'." She smiled and _thank god for that. _When girls smiled, they don't cry. So I decided to flirt- girls don't cry while flirting._ Right?_

"I love your dimple." I poked the dimple in her cheek.

"It's not a dimple. It's a scar." She stopped smiling and the dimple stayed.

"Oh."

"It's okay. You didn't know." She shrugged and laughed, and her laughter shook one more tear from her eye.

I had to get out. Willow Girl was crying over swans.

* * *

Every time I went over to Leah's house, I brought in the mail for her. I don't understand how a house full of people forgets the mail, but they do.

She was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the obituaries. Forgets the mail, remembers the newspaper.

"You have: American Lung Association Weekly, American Cardiac Association Weekly, National Medical Association… Oh, St. Jude's Hospital is having another fund raiser…" I read off the stack addressed _Leah Clearwater._

"Thomas Robertson died today at age twenty nine. Cause unknown." She snorted, leaning over the newspaper to study the black-and-white picture more closely. "Whenever they say 'cause unknown', it's either suicide or murder."

"Well, how many fucking details do you want, you creep? _This guy lost seventy-five pints of blood and cried to the 911 operator while he bled out. Disembowelment._"

"When I die, can you arrange for my obituary to say that?"

"I don't think your mom would like that." 'Cause Leah _just knew_ she would die before her mother.

"But I want to be remembered, my dear Eddie." She folded up the newspaper neatly, running her thumb and forefinger along the creases. "And putting 'death by disembowelment' is one sure way of being remembered."

I put my hands around her neck and massaged hard.

I could have really liked Leah, if she wasn't so _hard_. But she's hard and cold and bitter and sometimes it hurts to look at her.

She shrugged my hands off her neck and stood up to make herself a drink. Water. Two Alka Seltzers. Let it fizz. Vodka. Tonic Water. The resulting mixture stank, and the medicine formed clots at the top. I gagged and looked away.

After her father died of stomach cancer, she started experimenting by making these cocktails. She wanted a drink that was more agreeable with the stomach lining.

"I think I'm on to something. This Alka Seltzer is lime-flavored. It's like a medicinal margarita," she said.

"Well aren't you a badass."

"Shut up, drug mule."

"Put some sour mix in it. That might make it more palatable."

She nodded and retrieved the tub of mix from the cupboard. It was crusty and she dug at with a spoon.

Chicks shouldn't be so hard. They shouldn't choke down Cancer Cocktails. They should be… whatever. But unfortunately, it seems like only the hard chicks are tolerable. The soft chicks, well, they _talk a lot._ Or they are virgins. Virgins like Chelsea freak me out. When a chick I'm whatever'ing with tells me she's a virgin, I feel like a bull in a china shop. I can't wait to get the fuck.

She pinched her nose and slammed back the drink. Then she refilled the cup under the faucet and took five different vitamins to boost her immune system.

"Alright lover." She unbuttoned her blouse. "Let's get this show on the road."

"Oh baby. Who can resist that?" I knocked my knees together while leaning forward and kissing her on the nose.

She pulled back and ducked away. With a prissy turn that whipped black hair into my face, she turned toward her room. "You brought condoms? I'm out."

Hate and fear and need warred within me. I mean, I was afraid of this chick. Because she was rude and bitter and a hypochondriac and that's disgusting. But I liked being around it and that _was fucked up._ So I hated her.

Fuck it. No, no- fuck _her._

Later, in bed, we were coiled like around each other. We lie on our sides; my face pressed into her neck. She's playing with herself down there while I'm fucking her, and there's a mirror next to the bed so I can see her make chimp faces. Then she clenches up and she makes the blood curdling cum scream she does. Did you know that the French call an orgasm _the little death? _Her eyes were shut, so she doesn't see me raise my hand to the mirror and cock it like a gun. I shoot the mirror and make a "pow" noise.

There's a continuum of chicks in my life. Leah was on one end with her Cancer Cocktails, Willow Girl was on the other.

I pulled out and Leah was turning on the television on her dresser. Snow crackled through the picture.

"Adjust the antennae," Leah said, waving the remote at the bunny ears on top of her T.V. set.

I wondered where Bella fell on the spectrum. I doubted there was a nice spot on that spectrum.

"Have you ever pulled a prank on somebody, Leah?"

"My dad. Before he died."

"What about on someone your age?"

"Um. Once. But their response _sucked. _Totally wasn't worth it. They didn't care. Fuck- get mad, laugh- prank me back. They were just a douche though. Did nothing. My dad though- he always pranked me back. He _rocked._"

"Wow. That sounds… yeah."

Dad and daughter pranking. That sounded intimate. Emmett's maxim,_ "It's like, too intense and shit. Just ignore Bella."_

A funny commercial with a drunken penguin was playing. Leah started laughing and it was shrill and her lip curled over her large gums. Her face contorted into the orgasm'ing orangutan face. And despite everything, I don't think I've ever missed Bella more than in that moment.

**If you were wondering when this chapter took place… you should read author's notes. "There is no aphrodisiac like innocence" is a quote from Jean Baudillard.**

**I know this might not be what you expected after the long wait, and I am really sorry about that. For the past two months, I discovered that I couldn't proceed with the story until I explored Edward a little bit more. This is what I came up with. I think it provides some insight into Edward, and… I wanted to post something while I was writing the second part of Tyler's house party. **

**There's an awesome Twilight Fan Fiction Competition coming up- The Eddie Award & The Bellie Awards- hosted by Limona, the fabulous writer of "Hiding in Plain Sight". Link is on my profile. Go nominate your favorite stuff!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Not mine**

**Basic PLOT SUMMARY incase you have FORGOTTEN since I take a long time to update (sorry):**

***Bella and Edward were friends at 13, but they had a bad sexual experience that ruined their friendship (Edward got the wrong hole). **

***Bella AT FIRST is a snarky but low key, honor roll student. In the opening chapter, Bella pranks Edward with lice shampoo in the locker. Now all the hos of Forks won't touch him- he starts banging Leah from La Push. **

***At Charlie's barbecue, E/B flirt, while Rose/Em hook up. R/Em mutually agree to keep their affair on the down low, because Rose is a black sheep of Forks High. She became pregnant sophomore year and gave the child up for adoption. **

***The next Friday night, Bella goes to the Cullen's to drop off something for Carlisle. She gets high with Carlisle. Edward comes home and sees Bella and Carlisle cozy on the couch, and later starts jerking off in front her in his room. Then he takes her home and fingers her on the car ride. **

***Then they don't speak for several days. Bella absentmindedly flirts with Jasper in the hall. **

***Alice finds out about Bella's flirtations and invites/forces Bella to cut school to go to Alice's house on Spirit Day. Alice gets Bella drunk. Alice and Jasper make out/dry hump while Bella is obliged to stay in the room. Meanwhile, Edward is switching Bella's Spirit Day presentation with a prank one. **

***Bella goes to school, gives the Spirit Day presentation, and becomes a student body hero. However, all the teachers are pissed at her. **

***Meanwhile, Rose has become more distant and snaps at Bella, while Jessica (a popular girl and old friend) is trying to reconnect with Bella.**

***At the end of the chapter before EPOV, Bella was at Tyler's party, drunk off her ass. She was watching Jessica & Alice doing the bump and grind (only tops off) with Jasper in the bed.**

**--Big thanks to the mastah betah, withthevampsofcourse--**

I didn't want to watch Alice and Jessica grind against each other. But I felt stuck in the doorway, with nowhere else to look.

There were no bathrooms at this party. The house was an overstimulation warzone. The atmosphere shimmered with sweat and hormones and Axe and cologne. Girls' make-up was starting to melt; they looked like Barbie dolls left in a hot car too long and now the plastic was starting to warp. The bass from muffled rap was causing frames to jingle on their nails in the hallways... but honestly, I wasn't even sure if I was imagining that they were jingling because I was _that _drunk or if it was really happening.

And now, I was stuck, here -in the quietest hall of the house- listening to girl moans.

And I knew Jasper and Alice. I didn't really care about anyone at this party … except for well, _that Cullen guy_…. But I cared about Jasper and Alice. Why I cared, I didn't know.

And I wanted to know what the hell they thought they were doing, messing around with Jessica. So I was stuck, watching.

Watching two sets of breasts being pressed and rubbed between two scrawny torsos. Seeing a boob squeeze over another boob was like watching a rat flattening itself to crawl underneath a door.

Finally, I stepped away from the door and slapped myself on the cheek. I should feel appalled at my behavior–_you creepy peeping girl-_ but I only registered the sensations of numb and woozy. And that was ok. Numbness was a symptom of shock, and once shock wore off- _then_ I would be feeling disgusted with myself and weirded out. _And that_ was something morally sound-

"Duuuude, check _this_ out!"

These two senior dudes, Steve and John, had fucking suddenly Apparated to my left side.

The two guys were gesturing come-hitheringly at a red-faced boy with a buzz cut. He was twenty feet down the hall and staggering toward us. Every fourth step was a half trip, and his arm would fly into the air, grappling to find a hold on the wall. His pants sagged low on his thighs, revealing fire truck-red boxers.

"Come on, Alice and Jessica are doing IT! You gotta see these bitches!" John yelled. He cut his eyes toward me. "You're a little freak, aren't-cha, Bella?" He wiggled his eyebrows and elbowed my hipbone.

I ducked my hair over my eyes and sidestepped behind him.

Then the bedroom erupted with the sounds of indignant female squeaking and the shuffles of sheets.

"What the helllll getoutofhereyouguuuyyyyys!" That was Jessica.

I turned my back on the scene, trying to ignore my body. It was agitated, and my esophagus was tossing indigestion up into my mouth, and I could taste the spaghetti I had for dinner. But if I paid attention to the psychosomatic tantrum my body was having, I would start crying. So I stared at the hallway wall. There was a picture of Tyler's older brother at his wedding. He was a paraplegic in a wheelchair. There was a tawdry archway trimmed with white rose blossoms and fake doves above his head. His face was severe for a young man, tight around the mouth. By his side was a tiny, straight-backed Vietnamese woman, looking equally stern as she regarded me.

"Get outta here." That was Jasper.

I peeked over my shoulder.

Jasper was blocking the doorway. His corn-rows were unraveling at the tips and strands of blonde frizzed out from the top of his head. Despite _that_, he still managed to look a little menacing as he frowned at us, his hand clutching a pillowcase.

"Way to go, playa-"John started, raising a hand to high-five him.

Jasper snapped at the pillowcase at John's shoulder.

"What the fuck!" John yelled. John and Steve backed up. Over Jasper's shoulder, I saw Alice, wrapped in a lavender sheet, watching me with a tipped chin and speculative air. Jessica darted around the room, looking for her shirt. Her bra was barely secured over her chest, and her boob popped out of a cup.

Steve and John craned their necks to see over Jasper. Jasper raised his eyebrows and went up on his tippy toes, shaking his head in warning.

And the stumbling, red-faced boy with the low hanging pants _finally_ arrived after his long jog down the hall. "Bring on... the bitches," he panted.

Jasper whipped the pillowcase again, aiming at Steve's ass.

"Fag!" Steve yelled.

"Ain't nothing you say going to insult my masculinity right now. Excuse me, punks." Jasper slammed the door in our face.

The red-faced boy with the low hanging pants sighed. "No bitches for Paulie tonight." He burped long and proud, smelling of rum and ranch dressing. Then he started shuffling back to the end of the hall from whence he came, his fists pumping by his side.

I followed him. I didn't want to linger by Steve and John.

"So, Paulie..."

"Uh."

There was a hall light that was ringed by serrated golden halos. _And it was very pretty._

As I stared off at the trippy visuals, Paulie was shuffling away from me._ Oh- this is conversation time, Bella. Not pretty hall light time._

"Have you, by any chance, seen a bathroom?" I began, trying to sound official and polite. "Because you see, I've been trying to find one forever. And ever."

"Bathroom was a no go," he puffed. "I've been searching constantly... so long, that sometimes I get sidetracked and forget…. So I pulled my pants a little low, to serve as a reminder, you know? I look down, see my boxers sticking out- and I'm like- _Paulie._" He slapped his forehead."YOU are looking for the bathroom! But, no go. One bathroom's broken, overflowing; other bathroom had been surrendered to cokehead bitches. They've been in there for the past two hours! What the fuck!" He stumbled into a wall and sagged down it, pressing a hand to his sweaty brow. "Another bathroom has Aunt Flow on the toilet seat. The rest are all connected to locked bedrooms. No bathroom for Paulie."

I laid my hand on top of his head in what I hoped was a reassuring gesture. "I'm sorry, Paulie."  
He smacked my hand away; his head lolled to the side. "Go. Save yourself. Before you become stuck wandering ... the labyrinth... And if you see that motherfucker Jacob... tell him Paulie's a goner."

Jacob?

Virginity-Thieving-Jacob?

The only Jacob in Forks was forty-seven years old. It had to be Virginity-Thiever.

"Are you from La Push?"

"Uh huh." He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. I guessed I was dismissed- and my bladder was about to burst, anyway.

_Virginity-Thieving Jacob has invaded the party. _

_S_uddenly, I felt the need to proceed via duck-n-rolls. It's hard to evade deflowerers on a full bladder. A lot of organs get jostled between flattening oneself against a wall and rolling across the floor. Leaving a trail of urine while sneaking around was probably a little counterintuitive.

After five minutes of wandering, I found myself outside by the fish pond that I had struck up an acquaintance with earlier in the evening. A row of guys lined the pool, their backs to me. All their feet were covered in untied, unscuffed sneakers and spread shoulder width apart. They had their beers in their left hands and smoked with their right, flicking their cigarette ash onto the lily pads. The blue tobacco smoke streamed into a fog above their heads. The cloud looked like a thought bubble in the funny papers- except they only had one thought bubble to share between them, and the lines of smoke was their connection to their collective brain.

I heard one of the guyboys unzip their jeans. His friends laughed. A jet of liquid squirted between his legs, landing in the fish pond.

And I would have peed myself _right there_, if I wasn't so pissed.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" I yelled, staggering a step as I approached.

They turned around and laughed at me. I didn't understand why they laughed… but there was ringing in my ears from how loud I yelled, so maybe I didn't sound as intimidating as I thought.

_Let's hope I didn't squeak. Or slur._

"You just pissed in a goddamn habitat!" I yelled. "What if the alkaline properties in your urine fuck up the pH balance in the fucking ecosystem, you assholes! You just pissed a damn _gallon_ of fuck-you-fish-juice in there-"

"That wasn't the fuck-you-juice, but if you want to see it…" the Pissing Douche responded, zipping himself up and wiggling his hips at me.

"Oh. Oh my god. That's a joke. HA. HAHAHA. REAL fucking original. Let's just relate everything to SEX and then, even DOUCHES can be funny!"

"Baby, you're attracting a crowd." That was a new voice. Coming from behind me.

I blew the bangs out of my face and swerved my body around, hoping the ground would hold steady while I greeted this strangey stranger.

Edward was toeing a dirt clod, head lowered, chewing his bottom smirking lip.

I groaned. "Why do you always find me when I am with the douches?" I flung my hand in the douches' direction. "Do you have like, Bella's-with-a-Douche radar? Do you have, uh…"

…. my rant just ran out of steam.

So I shut my mouth, and the line of assholes by the pond snickered.

Edward rolled his eyes. "Someone said 'that girl who made Spirit Day awesome' was throwing a bitch fit, and I came over to see."

"I am not throwing a fucking bitch fit! His alkaline piss is fucking with the pH-"

He scratched a patch of unshaved stubble on his jaw. "He's probably been drinking beer all night. Beer is acidic. I bet his piss is neutralized by now."

"My piss is fuckin' golden," the Douche responded. He and his crew turned around, hissing "bitch" and "science-cunt" under their breath.

Edward raised his hand toward the douches. "See? They are _gold_ fish. They'll love it."

_No one cares about the fish._ Tears tickled the corners of my eyes.

"Are you too bad-ass to love fish?" I whined.

He rested his fingers over my mouth and leaned into my face. His breath, moist with the yeasty ferment of beer, fanned across my nose and cheeks. He must have been smoking; the whites of his eyes wore red fishnet stockings. "Baby, you're drunk."

Several moments passed before he removed his hand. He pulled it slowly down my mouth, letting his fingertips lightly drag off my bottom lip.

"I'm acting silly…" I mumbled, rubbing my hands over my eyes.

"No- you're fine. But I'm leaving. And I think you should come with me," Edward said.

I widened my fingers and peered at him through the slats. His head was turned from me; he was watching a green firefly dart through the ragweed where the yard faded into wilderness. At this angle, the bump in his nose protruded prominently. He had broken it several times during football. I paired the bump with the pear-shaped birthmark on his Adam's apple, and filed them away under _Bella's Treasures. _

Hopefully, everyone else mooned over his green eyes and interesting hair. I'd fight for my birthmark and the bump on his-

_Stupid_ drunk girl.

"Are you coming or staying?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah. Probably should bow out now… before I get thrown out," I mumbled.

He nodded and pinched my shirt sleeve. "Car's this way." Then he started walking, keeping his tiny but firm hold on my clothing.

He led me through a long driveway where a knot of high schoolers gathered around three kegs. As we passed, a Korean freshman with a faux-hawk yelled, "Hey Swan! Did you do this?!"

I gaped into his eight-ball contacts lenses. "Huh?"

Edward jerked me by the cuff of my sleeve and continued steering me through the crowd.

"So... someone took one of Tyler's kegs and replaced it with one filled with Kool-Aid," Edward said. "That's what that was about. Everyone thought it was you."

"Huh?"

"Yeah. Roarin' Raspberry. These juniors brought a case of disgusting ass champagne and they're mixing it with the Kool-Aid. So the Kool-Aid's actually going pretty fast. But Tyler's still pissed."

"I imagine so," I said.

The Volvo was parked about two blocks away. The street was filled with the vehicles of Forks High, and I wondered what the neighbors thought of Tyler's party and the sedans blocking their drive-ways. Midnight had just passed, so most residents were asleep, except for the odd window where the eerie blue light of television blinked through Venetian blinds.

"Are you sober enough to drive?" I asked as Edward opened my door.

He shrug-nodded and then rounded the car to his side. The wind twisted the wisps of his hair, and I watched as the jean fabric pulled and loosened across his ass with each stride.

Did he _really_ just _shrug-nod_ at me? What did that mean?

I lowered my ass onto the car seat, trying to convince myself it was only a _nod_. An honest to God, _"I'm sober_" nod.

His arm slipped across my thigh as he popped the glove bin open. The smell of pine and blueberries filled the car. A yellow light illuminated the compartment; a sandwich bag filled with green nuggets rested on top of his vehicle registration. He pulled out a notepad bound with a rubber band to a graphing calculator. At the top of the notepad's page was today's date, and underneath were lists of dollar amounts and masses.

"I have to make a delivery before we go home," he said, letting his arm rest across my leg.

I let my eyes close.I had the weight of his limb on my thigh. My nerves were sizzling underneath his forearm.

"No," I said.

"What?" The arm withdrew from my thigh.

"I'm Chief Swan's daughter. This car _reeks _of weed; you're probably over the alcohol limit… Just, gah. We get pulled over, not only do we go to jail, my dad _looks like an ass._ I should just… find another way." I started rubbing my eyes. _My mascara must look awful_. "I'm an idiot. I'm gonna be another face on those MADD billboards-"

Tears teased my eyes again. _Who knew I would be such an emotional party girl?_

"Hey, Jasper…" Edward was on his cell phone. "Yeah, I need to ask you a huge favor, man. You were leaving the party soon, right....? Could you bring Bella over to the-"

A rabble of angry bass notes exploded over the receiver. I heard Jasper saying "Bella's a lurking lecher", "interrupted some serious girl-love", and "gonna have blue balls for a fortnight"- interspersed with a lot of "fuck, dude".

Edward kept interrupting with "Thirty dollars, gas money."

"_Fuck, dude_."

"Thirty dollars, gas money."

Jasper hung up. "He'll do it," Edward said. "So, you spied on Alice and Jasper?"

"And Jessica."

"I see." He turned halfway toward me and leaned his head against the seat. His eyes flickered down my body, pausing right below my neck. My stomach bounded onto my ripe bladder with the gusto of a toddler leaping on his mother's waterbed.

"I- I didn't mean to… I walked in on them and I couldn't look away." I crossed my arms over my boobs. "It was like a train wreck."

"Yeah." He brought his thumb to his mouth. The nail traced the lower teeth for a moment; then he drew the digit away, regarded it, and brought it to his mouth for a bite. "I've walked in on them before."

"They need a tag they can put on the door. _Muff Diving In Session. Go Away._"

"Hey- I wouldn't go that far. If there's a warning system in place, then I can't accidentally drop in on it."

"Ew. What if Jasper's naked?"

He snorted and spat out a thumb nail. It landed on my knee, and I let it rest there. "I don't know. I've just seen the girls going at it- never really seen Jasper doing anything... I guess I forgot him."

"How can you forget? All he talks about is pussy and doing it and-"

"Plenty of people _talk_ shit and don't actually back it up."

"What does that mean?"

His hand rested on the stick shift. His knuckles were chapped and red lines circles the knobby bones. I wanted to lick my fingertips and soothe the irritated skin with my touch. _Stupid._

His fingers stretched toward the hand on my lap, stretching his hand over the gear shift. It hovered above the center consul for a moment. And I _hate _being messed up, because this moment seemed so _lingering_– Did his hand really drift toward mine? Or was it a simple movement, a normal, _quick_ movement…

High-beams flashed across the dashboard, and a horn blared behind us. "There's Jasper, now," he muttered, taking his hand away.

"Great," I sighed. "This should be awkward. He probably hates me right now."

"He has seven other people in the car that he has to bring to Port Angeles. He won't bother you. He's the only completely sober person here, so he makes bank taxiing kids home. He's in the professional zone. Don't worry about it."

I opened the door. "Well, uh- thanks. For getting me this ride. You didn't have to do this."

He waved me off, mumbling, "Thanks for being cool", and I didn't understand what exactly that meant. Then I got into Jasper's car- and I realized I was going to the house of some strange kid who needed pot from Edward. _Oh freaking well_.

I squeezed with three other people into the back seat. All the windows were rolled down, as everyone besides Jasper and I was smoking. Occasionally a cherry would fly off the front passenger's cigarette and through my window, once hitting my cheek. At every right turn, the other people in the back slammed into me, pinning my bladder into the handle bar on the car door. Jasper played eighties hip hop rather loud, ending any conversation.

Then we pulled up into La Push, and the passengers started bitching over the stereo.

"_We fucking drive all the way out to the reservation? Why couldn't you drop us off first?"_

"_Oh wow, look at this place..."_

"_You could have totally driven us to Port Angeles, first, Jazz-Man. I don't feel like touring this depressing-ass place."_

Jasper turned down the radio and shot a glance over his shoulder at the back seat. "If you all don't shut the fuck up, I'm just going to start slapping and I don't care _what_ I hit." Then he turned the tunes back up.

Finally, we parked on a dead-end road where the only street light flashed intermittently on swarms of termites.

When Edward pulled up five minutes later, I had realized I was a little more sobered up after the grating car ride–though still in afterschool-special territory with my decision-making skills.

Edward tapped on the driver window and waved three ten dollars bills. Jasper rolled the window down an inch, letting Edward slide the money through the crack. The cash fluttered into his lap, curling around the extra large cup of gas station mocha nestled in Jasper's crotch.

"Been a pleasure, bitch," Jasper said. I wasn't sure if he was saying that to me or Edward.

I exited the car and stepped onto the sidewalk. Crabgrass spotted the front yard of the tiny bungalow. Lawn furniture crammed the narrow porch.

I had been here before with my dad several times. I turned to the mailbox-guarding gravel walkway that led to front door. _Clearwater_ was painted on the side in aquamarine lettering.

Edward tugged the waistband of my jeans as he passed. "Come on."

"Didn't I hear your brother once say that Mr. Clearwater died during sex?" I asked as I joined him at the front door.

"Uh. Yeah." He rubbed at his hair. "I say it, too. Truth's sadder, though. Dude had a lot of health problems."

"Yeah, I know that. My dad was friends with him. We know the family."

Edward shrugged. "His neighbors were the ones that spread the rumors. The Clearwaters were in a motel outside of town when he died. It had a bad rep."

"How do you know all this?" I noticed a female eye peek out the curtains. Indigestion poked a hole through my stomach lining. "Wait, _wait_- Leah told you all this. Is Leah here?"

The hairs on my arm pricked up, and a flush of cold travelled across my scalp and down my neck. My stomach pitched against my bladder again. _Christ._ I was too full of liquid to pick a cat fight. I would wind up urinating on myself. And no matter how bad the other guy looks, _you just aren't the winner of a fight if you're sporting a piss stain._

"Yeah…. she's here."

"Oh." I sucked in a breath. _So Edward has been with Leah. He's told you this. _"Are you, like, with her?"

I needed to know how much humiliation I was in for once I walked into that house.

The hum from the electric street lamp filled my ears. I started at the pebbled path at my feet, focusing and unfocusing my eyes until I felt motion sick.

"Uh, I'm not with her, but yeah..." I raised my eyes to his face, but he had turned away from me and was scratching the top of his head. "Shit."

I studied the point where the dark strands of his neck hair met his upturned shirt tag.

"You shouldn't have brought me here," I whispered. "It's really disrespectful."

"I _wasn't_supposed to come here. I was supposed to meet Jacob at his house. But then he texted me after leaving the party and said he wasn't going to his house, he was coming here-"

"_Jacob_?"

The door swung open, and Jacob was standing in front of me with Leah wrapped around his back. His long hair was pulled into a loose bun, and he wore circular bifocals reminiscent of John Lennon. His shirt featured a profile of Miles Davis. Peace signs, yin-yangs, and mushrooms were drawn across his cargo pants.

"Why, Leah. I believe the Pot Man has arrived," he drawled. His words were paced like the beats of a metronome and lacked all emotional inflection.

"Why yes, Jacob, I believe you're right," Leah responded with a snicker as she slid down his back. The corner of Jake's mouth quirked into a smile at Leah's teasing, and then his face melted into its placid expression once again.

_No-Account, Virginity-Thieving Jacob._

"Did you ever find Paul?" I asked.

Jake tilted his head. "Find Paul?"

"At the party. He was lost… and looking for you…."

"Ah, yes. He once was lost. But now he is found."

Leah grabbed his hand and headed for the couch. "Stop messing with her. I can see her mind blowing."

Jacob pulled her wrists to his lips and gave it a kiss. The couple situated themselves on the couch, pulling the footrests up and curling their calves around each other.

"I am well within my rights. She hasn't visited me in four years. Some squabble over petty theft." He raised his eyebrows. "I have taken offense at such allegations." He pulled Leah onto his lap. "I miss her. She was the first person I astral projected with. We visited tundra in Alaska and watched an Arctic fox feed her young ones goose eggs."

Edward was watching me through pinched eyelids. "Really."

I nodded, not wanting to disabuse Jacob of his illusions. "It was our first time… we couldn't astral project ourselves into other dimensions yet… so we only made it to Alaska."

Leah nestled her nose into Jacob's neck. "Can we astral project ourselves to Prague? We can visit the Jewish Quarter. The Nazis were going to build an 'exotic museum of an extinct race' there."

"Maybe someday," Jake said, stroking her hair.

"Is astral projection like, a Quileute thing?" Edward asked.

"No. It's like, a human being thing," Jacob responded.

An awkward moment followed. Edward handed Jacob the weed. Leah pressed several bills into the front pocket of Edward's jeans, and then leaned into Jacob's chest, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Waist. Pelvis. _Ineedtopee._

"So Leah- canIpleaseuseyourbathroom?" I nearly shouted.

"Yeah. Sure." She waved her hand toward the hall.

And the next five minutes were the most refreshing ones of the night thus far.

"I was reading the _Yogi Times_, and it said weed's an amazing aphrodisiac," Jacob was saying as I walked back into the front room. Edward was seated on the love seat across from Leah. He scooted minutely. The movement didn't create space, but it did indicate where I was wanted. _Thanks, ass._ "When you're smoking-" Jake exhaled a puff of skunk for emphasis. "The blood gets increased levels of this natural chemical that's connected to the love and lust centers of your brain. And when you're engaging in the act of love-making, you're so in the moment_,_ you wind up lasting longer-"

"Weed can also make you impotent," Leah interjected.

I nodded, settling myself awkwardly next to Edward. "The weed chemicals replace the neurotransmitter that keeps you hard during sex, causing a disorder. Oh! And it lowers testosterone for dudes. That decreases penis size and libido."

In my peripheral, I saw Edward snort and shake his head.

_Yes, this is all subtext about how you _suck. _I hope you smoke your dick inverted._

"Now, I believe you're thinking too _quantitatively_," Jacob said, folding his hands in his lap. "You've been serving this god known as Science too long. Science can't teach us how to love. I bet you would ask for a semen sample before letting a guy get any." Jacob was smiling placidly and still speaking in his muted tones.

"So now you don't like pot? Was smoking weed with my dad that?" Edward asked.

"You smoked weed with Dr. Cullen?" Jacob asked. "Good for you. Old man needs some spice."

Edward scowled and sank into the sofa cushions, leaning his elbow against the armrest and pressing his fingers against his brow. He slapped his knees together, eager to leave.

"Uh… no… I mean, yes, I got high while I was with Carl- I mean, Mr. Cullen. I told my friend Angela about it, and she went off and compiled all this drug info for me to read. Mostly on the sexual side effects of drugs."

"Ha, she was working a good angle," Leah said.

"I mean, she also mentioned stuff like how pot causes altered motivation and cognition. Impairments in learning and perception. But that's boring."

For a second, I wondered what Edward would be like if he wasn't constantly operating in a fog of post-coital self-loathing and ganja. How would he act? Would he be content without all that shit? Why did he do it? Was the bad behavior symptomatic of deeper neuroses…

I stopped there. I was trying to apply psycho babble to him. Since I couldn't relate to him as a person, I tried to think of him as a science problem. I didn't know enough about him- I couldn't say if he operated in a "fog of post-coital self-loathing". Why did I automatically assume that he hated himself for fucking everyone under the moon? Maybe he was a satyromaniac. Maybe _I_ was missing out by not screwing everyone. Maybe Edward knew something I didn't-

Maybe I was analyzing him too hard.

I remembered my terrarium of Science Fair mushrooms growing under the table linens in my hall closet. Angela and I needed to inoculate some more jars with shiitake spores. _That _would be something constructive to analyze- something that could get me into college.

"Well, I think we better get going," Edward said, leaning forward and smacking his knees.

"Are you sober enough to drive?" I asked again.

He nodded. "Yes. Promise. And there's nothing in the car." He faced our hosts. "Been a pleasure, Jacob. Leah."

"Same to you, Eddie." Jacob nodded.

Leah saluted. "See yah round. Cool seeing you again, Bella."

"Yeah." I swallowed, my throat becoming very dry.

I felt as though I should have thrown a fit or something while I was over here. I was unsuspectingly taken to the house of my crush's _fling. _

But Leah…. was all humming and twining her finger around the baby curls framing Jacob's face. She looked content, and I couldn't fume at her while she was content.

I suddenly felt very drained.

"Tell your mom and Seth I said hi…." I muttered.

"Will do," she said, kissing Jacob's nose.

*-*-*

The ride to Edward's house was quiet for several miles.

"So, I didn't piss you off… with all that drug soap boxing?" I asked.

My head slumped against my window. Sleet was bounding off the glass.

He shrugged. "They're going to buy it no matter what. If you actually turned one of my customers, I'd laugh."

"That's awful."

He shrugged again. A piccolo trilled in a solo on the Classic's station. Long rays of rain slanted against the windshield wipers. I remembered the last time I had taken a ride in Edward's car. His artful fingers had poked my insides and then left snail trails all over radio dials.

The yearn burn spread over my pelvis. I tucked my hand in between my thighs and squeezed my knees together.

"Why did you start jerking it when I was in your room that night... when you drove me home, and I was high and in the car you started-"

"I get it." He cracked his knuckled against the top of the stick shift. "You were flirting with my dad when I came home. I was mad."

"I was not! You came home and we were on the couch together! Christ! I don't have a thing-"

"Okay... look, you do something to my dad. He's not a bad dude, but I get him, in ways you don't. I've seen his porn. All chicks dressed like they're in high school. I came home one night a couple of years ago, and he was having this existential rage on the phone with the IKEA sales support guy. His special room in the basement is stockpiled with memorabilia from his teenage years. Like he's a fucking pack rat. I swear, any day now, he's going to jet to Tibet and _find _himself."

I pulled my head from the glass and turned to stare at him. The rain on the windshield cast dappled shadows on his face.

"What are you saying?" I asked.

"He's just, I dunno. Going through a midlife crisis? Whatever…." He sighed. "And lusting after you-" Edward waved a hand in my direction. "-Are sort of his rebellion."

I started to respond, but he raised his hand. "Just, please. Don't say anything." He massaged his eyebrow and inhaled deeply. The sleet made plink noises across the roof. The rubber from the windshield wipers slowly scraped over the glass.

Edward's father rant sank deep into my heart, where I could pull it out on cold nights and go, "_Ah ha, he DID like me because he trusted me with this juicy little reveal"_. I wondered if he regretted opening up that much to me.

Then I pinched his forearm. Hard. "So you jerked off in front of me because you were mad that I am Carlisle's rebellion? What the hell sense-"

"I _started _to jerk off in front of you because I'm a prick... pricks fight with their pricks."

"That makes no... whatever."

"Don't be bitchy. It's not like you didn't like seeing my cock. You pulled it out in the attic," he muttered.

"Blah. That? It just happened. I just kneeled because there wasn't a place to sit and I was in this weird mental space and then I realized I was kneeling between a hot boy's legs and it was like Dick-Sucking Bella took over."

Did I just say that? Jesus. _No one ever says all that to boys._

I curled my knees up onto the seat and tucked them under my chin.

I mean, I left out some details. Like how awkward and confused I was between his legs, and how I mistook the confusion for sexual tension... and I just ran with it....

"What's a Dick-Sucking Bella?" He blinked.

"Um…"

That rant must have made me sound like such a dumb bitch.

_Oops, I fell mouth-first on your dick. _

But to an extent, it was true. Ever since I was fourteen and had the disastrous one and only time with Jake, I just went down on guys. Whenever I was in tense sexual (or intimate) situation I just figured... sucking them off would make it less tense. Dick-Sucking Bella got me by when I visited my relatives in Phoenix and my cousin introduced me to his bassist/model/performance-artist friend Giuseppe. She assisted when I worked at the Port Angeles Haunted House last year and got hot and heavy with a ghoulish priest in the _Exorcist_ Scene.

I was the tart who ran to third base but stalled before home plate.

Edward wouldn't want to hear that.

"I just started a new birth control. It made me really horny. So yeah, Dick-Sucking Bella. Who would have thought?"

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Okay." And he smiled and gave me a soft, baby soft punch on the chin. Just in jest. He knew I was lying, but there was plenty about the attic situation that was fucked up that shouldn't be addressed right now while we were drunk.

The car came to a stop. I looked up and saw the great white house where I would be spending the night.

"So. Here we are. My house. Yay…" He patty-caked his thighs.

"Oh," I whispered. "Yeah. Here we are."

**Love you guys, thanks for sticking it out! I welcome all constructive criticism. I know that Alice/Jasper is really confusing. It's about to be explained. Edward provided a hint when he talked about it in the car.**


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